Alphabet Challenge
by d i n o b o t
Summary: A series of Pokeshippy one-shots for each letter of the alphabet. Humor, fluff, angst and everything in between. COMPLETE
1. Anonymous

**A/N –** I'm trying my hand in those Alphabet Challenges people have been doing. They're loads of fun to read so writing them should be just as enjoyable. Besides, I desperately need a break from full-on in-depth chapter stories, so this fits in pretty nicely.

My inspiration mainly comes from _Cristipotter_ and _Erina-chan's_ alphabet challenges. If you have a chance to read them you should. They're amazing.

Anyway, every letter will be a one-shot taking place during different stages of Ash and Misty's lives -- very little continuity. And of course, Pokeshipping will always be included. Let's do this!

* * *

**Anonymous  
**

Faces look better golden, especially his.**  
**

"So, what do you think?" He looks into his shiny distorted reflection: jaw overly wide, eyes too narrow.

"You know what I think already, Ash," his friend mumbles, rolling her eyes. "Will you give it a rest already? You're really starting to bug me!"

Her disinterest erodes his enthusiasm. The can of metal polish drops to the floor along with the accompanying rag, and he joins her on the couch. She props her legs on the coffee table and crosses them together.

"Wow, what's with the 'tude?" Ash asks, mimicking her move. A quick glance follows. "You'd think a giant trophy like that would earn a guy some respect." He's quite proud of himself and he's not shy about letting her know. The boy's vision returns to the display case on the shelf above the fire place. The very sight of it spawns another confident grin.

Misty sits quietly, neither acknowledging his remark or shooting back a snide comment of her own. A good half minute goes by before another word is spoken.

"I never said you didn't deserve respect," Misty says in mono-tone, breaking the silence.

"I know—" Ash's grin broadens. "I just want to know what the heck is bothering you so much."

Misty can almost hear the dorky smile in his voice. "You'll get more than enough respect because of that trophy," she grumbles; eyeing the golden cup, winking obnoxiously across the room.

"And…?" he presses further. He knows there's more – oh, so much more.

"And you'll get all the _attention_ in the world now, that's for sure!" she hisses with a fleck of resentment. Her cheeks promote a heavy shade of red – from anger or embarrassment he can't figure out which. Ash turns slowly, trying to manage a peek of her ocean eyes, but she refuses.

"Why would that bother you?"

"It doesn't!!" Misty folds her arms just as sharply.

"Attention is always a good thing," Ash says to himself, in full deduction mode now. "The Champion should get the spotlight. From family, friends, the League, the media—"

"Girls!"

"Is that what's bothering you?" he's completely facing her now. Again, Misty refuses reciprocation. "Oh, come on, Misty. You know I'm not that kind of guy!"

"Sure," her words line heavily with sarcasm. "It's gonna be really hard resisting all those bimbos throwing themselves at your feet. I can see it now," she pantomimes a newspaper headline, "a wave of _anonymous_ air heads lining up for a shot with the new Pokémon Master! Wonderful!"

"And you want to be one of them!" Ash butts into her vision.

"HELL NO!!!" Misty shrieks, knocking the poor fool completely off the couch. "I can't believe you said that, Ash Ketchum!"

"Mis—" his words are stifled by the fuming red head pacing furiously around the living room. Her angry mumbles overwhelm his apology; most of them inaudible, and the few he does hear are not worth repeating. But the newly honored Master refuses defeat and matches her level; boldly stopping her in her tracks.

"Misty," he tries one more time, placing both hands on her arms. It works. She stiffens, quiet enough to allow an explanation. "I didn't mean that. You know you're more important to me than a bunch of _anonymous_ girls begging for a date. You're—"

"I'm what?" she demands after he hesitates.

"Uh—you're, you know…_UN_anonymous," he weakly answers.

"That's not even a word, Ash."

"You know what I mean," he exhales, hands dropping heavily to the side then combs them through his solid black hair. Words are not Ash's forte.

"I think you mean special," Misty finishes him bluntly.

"Yeah," he whispers, tying their eyes together; faces just inches apart. Misty feels his hand gently graze a single bang from her face. She sighs, refusing to be lured in, but Ash's dark eyes capture her attention; along with a word she never thought he would say about her.

"That's what I meant…_special_."

* * *

So, I asked my brother to provide me with the prompts for each letter, which I immediately regretted when he handed me the list. '_Anonymous_'? Really!? Wait till we get further down, there's some doozies in there. I do have a few letters banked. I'm going to stagger their release so it at least gives the impression I know what I'm doing. XD

Thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciated.


	2. Boys

**Boys  
**

It's 1:00am and they're _still_ talking.

"He's so incredibly cute!" one girl squeals, clasping her hands against her chest. "He's mature, good looking, smart—"

"We get the picture, Dawn." The list of accolades would continue forever if May didn't put a stop to it. She giggles, lying stomach down on her sleeping bag; brown locks brushing against her canary pajamas.

Dawn sighs dreamily, twirling navy bangs with freshly painted nails. "He saved us once from these mean Pokémon hunters. He looked so dashing and heroic and…"

"I'm sure he was."

"He knows poetry too, just like his Grandfather. Oh, May don't you think we'd make a good couple?!" Her voice is high and jittery, barely able to contain herself.

"Uh, sure—" May agrees after noticeable hesitation. "But keep in mind I never met the guy before."

The oldest of the bunch shakes her head; the fiery hair almost makes the gesture more resounding. She sighs before answering Dawn's inquiry.

"I've known Gary Oak for a while and I can assure you he's never picked up a pen to write as much as a freaking haiku," Misty downs what's left of her coveted margarita. "And try to keep it down, my sisters are sleeping upstairs. They get pretty grumpy when they don't get their beauty rest."

"Oops, sorry." The youngest lets out a muffled snicker, still giddy off her musings.

Misty slides into her red sleeping bag. "Besides, I think I've heard enough about Gary for one night. Let's change the subject."

Dawn beams and glances to her left. "Okay. I want to know about your dreamboat, May."

"What?" May's cheeks start to heat.

"I'm talking about the Coordinator with the green hair. What's his name again?"

"Drew," Misty butts in a reply.

"Yeah, that's his name! How is he?" Dawn claps her teeth together, pleading for the answer. It's fun living vicariously through people.

May aims the formal route. "He's fine. We entered in the same contest not too long ago in Olivine City."

"Oh, I love the beach there," Misty says, with actual interest this time. The lower half of her face buries in her pillow, nose protruding out.

"Annndd…?"

"We faced off in the semi-finals. It was pretty tough but I ended up winning."

"Good job," Misty adds, voice muffled by the pillow.

"How did he take it?"

"Actually—pretty well. I could tell he was disappointed but he said he couldn't be happier for me."

"Awww!"

Misty takes an indifferent tone, subverting the mushy stuff. "I'm surprised he didn't try to put on a 'tough-guy' front with you."

"Nah, he did give me another rose though."

"A rose?" Dawn lifts an eyebrow. "Why would he give you a rose?"

"It's his thing," Misty tilts her head toward the increasingly flushing coordinator. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes, it's his thing; and yes he gave me another rose." May's words trigger another wave of high pitched squeals. Her blush intensifies.

"That's so romantic. May, he's sooooo into you," Dawn flutters.

"Yeah..."

The girls pause a moment.

"So—we've talked about May and we've talking about me. I guess that leaves one person left." Four eyes crawl and land on…

"No, no!" Misty throws up her hands. "There's no way you're sucking me into this!"

"Oh Pleeease," Dawn scoffs. "You had no problem commenting on me or May. We all get a turn."

"Now who could Misty like?" May ponders despite Misty's pleadings. Her tongue pokes out the corner of her mouth. "Let's see, Brock's too old. Tracey is well—Tracey." They all stifle a laugh.

"I know who," Dawn sports a smile, too big for Misty's liking.

"Who?" the red head challenges folding her arms like a protection. This should be good.

"A certain Pikachu commanding, hat wielding trainer from Pallet Town, mebbe."

Misty flinches. Damn her vigilance! Coordinators aren't supposed to be this observant.

"Need I go on?"

"Yeah, that's right!" May pipes in. "I forgot you've known him a lot longer than the both of us."

"You two are crazy."

"Oh, come one Misty! It's totally believable!" May objects. "Are you saying out of all the time you traveled with him, you never _once_ entertained the thought?"

"Well—" she pauses. For a second Misty nibbles the bait. May's question is just too outrageous without an answer—not to mention false. 100 percent false! But May and Dawn refuse to give. Apparently, her expression suggests otherwise.

A torrent scowl of irritation replaces Misty's blush. "He doesn't care about girls or romance! He and I will always be friends, but _never_ in that way!"

The two younger girls continue their annoying grins; as if they know something she didn't.

"Whaawwt?!" she grunts, imagining mallet shaped imprints on their faces.

"I don't know, Misty," May starts. "I don't think you give him enough credit."

"Yeah, it's obvious he likes you." her sidekick adds.

"Obvious? Okay, tell me something obvious about him." She leans back, hands sticking to the shag carpet. This should be entertaining.

"When Max and I first started traveling with him, you're all he talked about," May finishes with a smirk. "All I heard for weeks was 'Misty this' and Misty that.'"

"Really?"

"He wouldn't let me touch the fishing lure you gave him. All I wanted was to try it once—but NOOO!" Dawn draws out the last part and crosses her arms, irked by the mere mention of it.

Misty leans closer.

"You're always the leading girl in his stories. Every Friday we'd have to find a phone so he can get his 'Misty fix,'" May air quotes the last two words.

Dawn nudges for May's attention. "Did he do that thing where he thought you mentioned Misty's name but you really didn't?"

"Yes! Yes!" May laughs. They're on the same wave length now. "Never mention the words 'mystery' or 'messy' around him at all!"

Their fun explodes in a whirlwind of laughter, holding their aching stomachs from tearing.

"Shh! My sisters, remember?" Misty shoots them both a deadly stare. Her face grows a dangerous shade of vermilion; a mixture of just about every emotion loathed.

"Sorry Misty," May giggles, catching a tear before it runs down her cheek. "It couldn't be more obvious to us."

"Gosh, you two are really getting annoying!" Misty grimaces, pounding her pillow over her head.

The two other girls share a smile, the kind of smile impossible to wipe off. They stare at the irate red head under her bouncy castle. They know under the pillows, blankets and layers of polyester is a girl too happy for her own good.

"Hey, Misty?"

"I'M NOT TALKING TO YOU TWO!"

"Hey, keep it down! Gosh, remember your sisters!" May teases, spawning another merry-go-round of laughter.

It's 1:15am and those two won't_ stop _talking.

* * *

I was all over the place with this one. Poke, Contest, Cavalier...even some Tracey bashing. It was still fun to write. Look for more girl power chapters down the road. It's fun adding different side characters to contrast personalities. Don't forget to review :D


	3. Children

This week is shaping up pretty nicely. 49ers won on Monday night, got a new car, caught up on some reading _and _I'm posting 'C.' Not too shabby, eh?

* * *

**Children  
**

"Look at that."

"What? Where?" Ash looked up from his Pokédex, in the middle of an entry.

"There!" Misty reiterated; hand shaking in the air.

He didn't follow. Their cheeks almost bumped together when he tried to track the imaginary line from her finger to wherever she was pointing.

"Don't you see it?" Misty's irritation took form of a nudge. "There, look!"

Ash focused his eyes and took a wider scope in his search. The view was pretty unspectacular: a large park, a playground, dozens of trees; nothing too exciting. He crossed his legs and slouched on the wooden bench.

"Yeah, pretty crazy, Misty," Ash mumbled. His thumbs tapped on Dexter's keys, cheery 'beeps' and 'boops' substituting for his laughter.

His ignorance made her eyes roll. "The children, Ash!" she finally announced. "The children!"

He groaned. "What about 'em?" still engulfed in the evolutionary process of Eevee. He just finished brushing up on Umbreon, now on to Espeon.

"Look! They're _fighting_!" she crossed her arms and glared at the playground a few yards away. Ash finally pried himself off the screen and decided to entertain her.

"Uh…so?" It was certainly a typical scene to Ash Ketchum. Familiar too, both in sight and in experience. "Children tend to do that, Misty."

"That's all children do! They fight all the time!"

Ash took a second glace. A boy and girl –no more than five or six- were arguing. Judging by their volume it had gotten pretty heated. The two kids stood in the middle of the swing-set and jungle gym. Someone must have hogged a turn or called a name.

"He must have stolen something from her," Misty said, so sure of herself.

"What makes you say that?"

"Boys are like that. They're mean. He probably took her lunch money or cut her turn in line!"

It was Ash's turn to roll his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause all boys are selfish like that."

"_Selfish_," was all Misty growled, just loud enough for him to hear.

"We all go through an _immature_ phase, Misty. It's just part of life."

Misty scoffed. Did Ash Ketchum really just say that? It took everything she had not to pound in his stupid face.

"I'm nothing like that," she grunted. The distant quarrel finally ended when the parents intervened. As if scripted, the girl shouted 'he started it!' followed by the boy's swift defense of 'did not!' With a vice-like grip on each ear, the children were dragged away, angry and unappeased.

"Soooo…" Ash paused intentionally. "We've learned children are immature and selfish. Great."

"Don't forget about fighting!"

Ash mumbled something that barely qualified as a response and returned to his keypad.

"Hey, guys! Lunch is here!" the third of their trio joined them. Brock walked up carrying three trays of food, waitress style. "Who ordered the burger?"

"Mine!" Ash shut his Pokédex and lunged for the tray, almost knocking Brock over in the process. The older boy wobbled on one leg before returning to balance.

"Hey, I ordered the burger! Thief!" Misty grabbed the other side of the orange rectangular tray.

"Let go!"

"You let go!"

"I had it first!"

"Stop being such a baby, Ash!"

"I'm not the baby! You are!"

"Come on guys don't—"

"He started it!"

"Did not!"

The tray eventually dropped to the ground, with Ash bringing his foil wrapped prize at eye's length.

"Jerk!" Misty shouted and grabbed for it again. Ash reeled it to safety, inches from her reach. He backpedaled happily, dangling it right in Misty's nose.

Brock blinked and remained still; two untouched trays still in hand. He watched them chase one another around the park, with Misty screaming bloody murder and Ash enjoying every bit of it.

He sighed. "Children..."


	4. Dream

**Dream  
**

He loved to dream.

Ash continued staring into the sky and blinked, for the hundredth time. He lowered his eyes, careful not to move. Red hair barely grazed the outskirts of his vision then disappeared when he exhaled.

He slowly turned his head. Brock lay sprawled out on the grass, snoring peacefully to the right. Pikachu curled up to the left with Togepi withdrawn beside him.

Wild scribbles covered their faces, courtesy of a much unappreciated artist. Normally, it would've given Ash a good laugh but somehow summoned the willpower to remain silent and abated. His face was probably doodled on as well, hers too. But that didn't seem to bother him.

The last thing Ash remembered was a very familiar, very angry Jigglypuff. They couldn't escape in time, and therefore suffered the consequences of being the audience. He never quite figured out how a microphone could double as a marker. They really should invest in some earplugs.

Brock was probably dreaming about girls: Nurse Joy or Officer Jenny—maybe both. Pikachu's fantasies - whether conscious or unconscious - always centered on Ketchup; and who knows what baby egg Pokémon think about. Her dreams were easy enough to figure out: Water Pokémon, chocolate, shopping, to name a few.

Ash loved to dream. They usually landed on training, trophies or his Mother's famous deep dish chilly dog pizza pot pies. But Ash had been awake for nearly half-an-hour, and had no intention of going back to sleep. Nothing could match the feeling of a certain red head sleeping gently on his chest.

He smiled; dreams would just have to wait.

* * *

Okay, am I the only one who thinks Jigglypuff adds to Pokeshipping? I love how Ash and Misty lean on each other whenever Jigglypuff puts them to sleep. Adorable!


	5. Euphoria

**Euphoria  
**

"I'm just too good!" Misty beamed proudly.

Ash shut the book. "This is boring! Let's do something else!" he whined, longing for the outside.

"We can't. Nurse Joy said we have to wait for the storm to clear."

"Right," Ash mumbled, remembering the rain tap-dancing against the window. A blink of lightning illuminated the room through the half drawn curtains then faded again. A distant grumble of thunder followed.

"You're turn," Misty swiped the dictionary from him and flipped to a random page. "Obdurate!" she announced, finger planted in the middle of 'oatmeal' and 'obedient.'

Ash furrowed his brow. "That's a hard one. I'd say scary or evil, something like that."

"Nope, sorry," Misty giggled lying stomach down on the bed, elbows propping up the upper half of her body.

"Really?"

"Not even close."

He snapped his fingers with frustration. "Darn, thought I had it. What is it then?"

"_Obdurate_," she paused before moving to the definition. "_Unmoved by persuasion. Unyielding or stubborn_."

He scoffed. "Figures."

"What was that?" Misty crawled closer to where he sat. His back was against the foot of the bed, legs extended and crossed. The hair on the back of his head brushed against the warm cotton bed sheet. Misty's cheek teetered the edge just enough to get on his nerves.

"Nothing."

"Good." She was in a good enough mood to let it slide. She was winning, after all.

Silently, Ash asked for the dictionary, hand above his head and slightly bent. She placed it on his open palm and he brought it to his lap. Skinny fingers tore through the pages. He had to stump her, he just had to! He stretched the stale bindings of the book and grinned.

"Okay, Miss Know-it-all," he smiled away from her. "Nomenclature!"

"What?"

"Noh-muh n-kley-cher" he said slower, through his teeth.

Misty lifted an eyebrow. Ash just upped the ante. She pressed her lips together and shook her head softly, as if the answer would somehow drop out of her head. She flipped on her back, crossed her arms and stared at the ceiling.

"Hmm… it has to do with a set of terms for a system or a specific field of interest."

"Synonym?"

"Language or terminology."

Ash leaned his head back, this time with irritation. Without looking he rainbow-ed the small dictionary backwards. Misty caught it in mid air and laughed, quite proud of herself. The lamp beside them almost doubled as a spot light, honoring her triumph. Even the rain sounded like it was applauding her; but Ash's grumble of defeat topped them all.

"Quit gloating, will ya?"

"Why? I'm totally winning."

"How wonderful for you."

Misty held a chunk of the pages between her thumb and pointer finger. With a small amount of pressure, she peeled through them and eyed the top right hand corner of each page.

"A... B... C… D... Here's an easy one."

"Great."

"Euphoria!"

"Euphoria? That _is_ easy, Misty."

"Define it then."

"Happiness," he said confidently.

"Actually, it says 'the _complete_ state of happiness.'"

"Oh, come on!" Ash stood up and turned. He looked down to face her, hands planted beside her head on the bed covers. "That's nit picking, Misty!"

Misty stared into an upside down Ash Ketchum consuming her vision. "Tell you what. I'll let it slide if you can use it in a sentence."

"Suffix?"

"Sure," she shrugged.

Ash breathed in and tried to think. He stared into her growing smile; although from his vantage point looked more like a frown. The pressure in his hands softened and his head lowered slowly to hers.

"Being here...with you...makes me euphoric," he whispered.

"Here?! But you've been stuck in this room with me for hours!"

"I know."

Ash smiled, but from her vantage point looked more like a frown. Mere inches separated her soft face with his. He could feel her warm breath against his forehead. Their eyes disappeared beneath their lids as the space between their lips gently disappeared. Misty's bottom lip caught the lower half of his mouth, and he caught hers. Her fingers ran through his hair then slid up to the side of his face.

They finally parted -- to the complete state of happiness.

* * *

Spider-man kiss, FTW! If you've played _balderdash_, they were playing an odd version of that. To make things more interesting, in your review tell us your idea a day of complete happiness. It can be Pokemon related or not, of course.


	6. Forgot

**Forgot  
**

The empty hook dangles in front of his face, with a frown to match his disappointment. Ash sighs quietly and tosses the line back into the water. The hook lands with an unimpressive splash and straddles the river's surface.

"Nothing," he bends forward slightly, watching it bob up and down. Dawn sits to his right, cross-legged on a tree stump. Her line is empty too; nothing to reward their patience.

"Well, this was a bust," she grumbles. "We've been out here fishing all morning. Where's Brock? He was supposed to be back with those new fishing lures hours ago!"

Tic, tic, tic goes Ash's spool as he tediously reels in his line. "Beats me. I think we need to rethink our strategy. This bait isn't working."

"That's 'cause it's not real bait," Dawn reminds him, referring to the open can of generic Pokémon food between them.

"Guess Water Pokémon don't like this type of food." He holds the line with one hand and flicks the soaked clump of chow away with the other. "Guess we'll wait for Brock; wherever he is."

"Hey, I have an idea!" Dawn yells, breaking the pessimism. "Why don't you use that special lure of yours?"

He stares at her dumbly. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, the one that Gym Leader gave to you. What's her name again?"

"You mean Misty?"

"Yeah, that's it," Dawn smiles and skips over to his backpack. She tosses it to him and he catches it in mid-air. The zipper buzzes as he opens it. He knows exactly where to look. His hand immediately fishes out the lure, comfortably resting on his black fingerless gloves.

"Didn't you get that from her like, a long time ago?"

"Uh... yeah," he stares into the lure's wink.

"And didn't you say it's a special lure made for catching Water Pokémon?"

He nods without words.

"Well, why didn't you use it to begin with?"

Ash doesn't give her an answer because he honestly doesn't know. The two inch Misty smiles two feet away; with tangerine hair, boxy shorts and bright red suspenders over a yellow top. Things would have been easier if he just remembered.

"I guess I… forgot."

* * *

I know… kinda odd. Lately, I've been in that sort of mood.


	7. Gravity

**Gravity  
**

Tap… tap… tap

"Quit it!"

Ash stopped his pacing and looked to the origin of her voice. Misty bent forward; face almost touching her knees, the palm of her hands covering her face entirely. Her body remained motionless and ridged, like a single touch would cause her to collapse. Ash understood her trepidation but decided to make light of the situation anyway.

"Jeez, someone's in a bad mood this morning," he laughed good-naturedly.

"Who wouldn't be?!" Misty snarled, resurfacing from the darkness of her palms. "I'm screwed! I'm so screwed!" Her face disappeared behind her fingers again and resumed before Ash could take her down with another wry comment.

"You'd think just once I could rely on them! Just once!" Her fingers finally peeled off her reddened cheeks and stuck them firmly on the cold mahogany bench. She grasped the edge till her knuckles turned pale but could not summon the ability to rise.

"Well, you know them better than anyone." He looked down the seemingly endless tile hallway in both directions.

She snorted and continued as if in the middle of a long conversation. "…I go on vacation for a few weeks! Weeks! I come home and they turned my Gym into a freaking beauty salon! They were giving trainers manicures for God's sake!"

"Really? For how much? Do they take appointments?"

"Ash!" she shouted, with an echo trailing. "I don't think you understand the _gravity_ of the situation. Because of my stupid sisters I have to convince the PIA not to take my Gym license away! The Gym I worked hard to defend!" She wilted again, under the heaviness of the air. "I don't think I can do this."

He knelt down to her level, hand settling on her shoulder. Misty's hands dropped and she looked straight forward, not at him, but just above. A large set of doors towered them both. The council was waiting behind those massive three-inch thick wooden doors. Waiting just for her.

Misty sighed and tried shifting her legs. They complied slowly, as if lined with lead.

Ash rose to his feet, with so much ease, and extended his hand just below her chin.

"Up," he said lightly with a smile. Ash's smile. "Come on, Misty."

She didn't think she would be able to stand with the kind of day she was having. Blame it on the yoke of family obligation or the burdens of leading a Gym. But as she touched his hand -and with an effortless pull- Misty rose and matched his height. She found herself staring into the large wooden doors with Ash right behind her. Any closer and she could use him as a pillow.

He gave her shoulders a light shake. "You can do it, Myst."

"How do you know?"

"You can do anything. I know you can. Plus, you have the reigning Pokémon Master backing you up. I'm one hell of a reference, you know."

Misty felt the strength in his presence and the warm wash of his breathe grazing her neck. The anxiety lifted and died peacefully somewhere out of mind. The strength returned to her body, and suddenly those giant doors didn't seem so giant anymore. She placed her hand on the door knob and turned.

She entered.

* * *

I'm glad I thought outside the box with this one because what originally came to mind was Ash and Misty in outer space, which in hindsight might have been kind of fun. Oh, well :)


	8. Help

**Help**

An annoying knock at the door -- at one in the morning no less. Misty flinches under her warm covers and buries further in her nice feather pillow. The poundings continue with no end in sight and carries through the small two bedroom apartment. Then finally, with an agitated groan, Misty tosses off her bed sheets and sits erect on the edge of her bed.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

"Damn it, Daisy," she grumbles, trudging down the dark hallway. She winces every time her bare feet make contact with the icy linoleum floor, muttering eternal hatred for her older sister. "If this is another end to one of your bad dates, so help me."

Her toes finally reach the un-vacuumed shag carpet and she glues her face to the door's peephole. It's pitch black outside due to the broken entry light. "Go away, Daisy! We'll deal with it in the morning!"

"Misty!"

Her eyes shoot open, and her body flinches again. That isn't Daisy's voice. It isn't even a woman's voice. In fact, it almost sounds like…

The thin chain rattles as it disconnects from the wall and she slides the dead bolt away. The door swings open revealing a shadowy figure, the pale moonlight faintly lighting his face.

"Ash?"

He quickly shuts the door and fashions the chain back on. The lock clicks shut. His back remains against her and they pause as he fills the room with heavy breathing.

"Do you realize what time it is?"

"Shh!" he finally turns, pressing a finger perpendicular to his lips. Misty reaches for the light switch but he catches her wrist with sweaty fingers and returns it to her side. "Don't! We don't want to let them know I'm here!" He quivers when he speaks, with a tremendous amount of fear in his words. Never has his voice lined with so much dread before.

"Who's 'them'? What are you talking about? "

"Quiet!" he yells just as loud. "I don't have much time."

"You're not making any sense! What's going on?"

"Please," his voice finally softens but retains its serious demeanor. "I need your _help, _Misty."

"What the hell is going on? What happened to you?"

"I don't have time to explain."

"Ash, you're shaking."

"Please... I need some supplies," he holds her by the arms, just for stability. Misty takes hold of his icy fingers. He must have been running in the cold for hours. Ash steps into a faded sliver of light for a moment. His eyes look tired with beads of sweat racing from his temples. "I need money... and food... and some--"

"Tell me what's going on!" she demands.

Some dust settles on his clothes as he shakes his head. "No, the less you know the better. Misty, I don't want to get you involved. You could get in a lot of trouble! Just... just..." the sentence fades in a stammer. He sighs and knows how pathetically desperate he sounds.

But she understands, and without a word turns away. Misty flicks on the light and tears through the kitchen, opening all the cupboards and drawers. Seconds later, she returns with a small plastic bag full of non-perishables.

"Here," she hands it to him. "Oh, I almost forgot." Misty grabs her small purse off the table and zips it open without a second thought. Her fist resurfaces with a few crumpled bills and presses it against his chest. "Here, take it. I'm afraid it's all I have."

"It'll do. Thanks," hand settling on hers.

A siren murmurs in the distance, but grows closer, and they both know it. They turn to the window and are instantly covered by a brilliant flash of red and blue lights dancing through the slits in the drapes. Misty feels him stagger away from the door.

"They found me! Hurry, I need a Pokemon. Do you have any with you?"

"Where's Pikachu and the others?"

He darts to her bedroom, with Misty trailing closely behind. "They were all confiscated. I have to find a way to get them back."

"What? You're in no position to mount any kind of jail break!"

"I know! I know!" Ash shouts, and slides open her bedroom window. The freezing winds make him shudder. Inside with her, seems so warm and inviting. But he has no choice but to go. "Do you have any or not?"

"Well, I keep Staryu with me for emergencies." She takes the red/blue ball from her nightstand and tosses it between them. He snatches the sphere with one hand and tucks it in his jacket pocket with an uneasy nod.

The sirens wail louder.

"Where are you going?" her hearts thumps in her chest and she grabs his arm before he jumps out of the window.

"I... I... don't know," he admits. "But I have to go."

That's not an acceptable answer. "No! I won't let this happen!" with tears forming in her eyes. "You wanted my help and I'm giving it to you! Let me _help _you, Ash!"

His breathing starts to accelerate. The sound of screeching tires and closing car doors kills his courage. But in the whirlwind of his mind, Misty's words break through. 'Let her _help _you! Let her _help _you!'

"Fine. I'm gonna lay low in the Viridian Forest till I can sort things out."

Footsteps. Many footsteps.

"Okay. I'll come find you tomorrow. But you better tell me what the hell is going on!"

A small chuckle escapes his lips. "Okay, you got it."

BAM! BAM! BAM!

"I'll stall them as long as I can. Go! Go!"

He does; out the window and into the night. Misty slides it shut and secures it. Her forehead settles on the glass, watching Ash's figure disappear under her warm foggy breath staining the window.

"Go..."

* * *

Remember, no continuity with these. I know... it's evil.


	9. Introduction

**Introduction  
**

Ash couldn't contain himself. Not today, not by a long shot. This was evident by his jittery feet against the wooden floor and a teethy smile from ear to ear plastered to his face. His friend sat to his right, a pencil and pad in hand, ready to go. Tracey chuckled and sketched a few Pokemon for warm ups.

"You're pretty excited about this aren't you, Ash?"

"You bet! This is gonna be awesome, won't it Pikachu?"

"Pika!"

Ash grinned, curled his bucket of popcorn with his forearm and handed Pikachu a few pieces.

"Where'd you get the popcorn? There isn't a concession stand around here."

"Snuck it in," Ash replied as he smacked his lips together. "This is gonna be hilarious! I still can't believe she got forced into doing this!"

"Well, so did Brock," Tracey said, brushing tiny pieces of eraser off his paper.

"Yeah, but he actually likes getting dressed up. When was the last time you saw Misty in a dress?"

"Uh..."

"Exactly!" and with that, he tossed a puffy kernel in the air and caught it with his mouth.

Tracey merely laughed and continued with his drawing. The ridge on that Rhyhorn's head didn't look quite right.

The lights dimmed. Loud indistinct conversations waned to low whispers as everyone in the auditorium took their seats. All eyes followed the spot light crawling across the room, finally landing on an attractive lady standing to the right of a 'T' shaped stage, splitting the audience halfway down the middle. Ash, Pikachu and Tracey were front row center. There was no way Ash would miss this opportunity. Not for all the food in the world.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the 1st annual Kanto League Fashion Show!" Nurse Joy smiled and panned her hand to the left as a large banner at the top exploded and unrolled. An assortment of multicolored confetti settled on the audience as they applauded. Nurse Joy adjusted the skinny microphone on her platform and continued. "We thank you all for coming to this charitable event! So, without further ado... I give you the 1st annual Kanto League Fashion Show!"

"Finally!" Ash yelled.

Breaking in the event were all the Officer Jennies, strutting in one by one to '_I Shot The Sheriff_,' revamped of course. Some wore new Officer uniforms, while others adorned more revealing dresses and gowns. After all these years, Ash still couldn't distinguish the Jennies from one another. But that was more Brock's department, so that didn't bother him.

His sole reason for attending was to mock a certain close friend. The same friend who begged the council not to make her sashay herself publicly to the whole region. That same friend who tried everything in her power to keep Ash from knowing about the event only to have it leak out in a horribly mis-sent email.

The music changed to a fast paced techno version of '_Viridian City_', ushering in the Nurse Joys. They entered single file, wearing various designer dresses. The last Joy planted her hands on her hips, and with a quick hip check, marched off with the approval of the crowd.

"Man, can't believe Brock's missing this!" Tracey laughed.

"Thank you, Joys and Jennies! Now on to the Gym Leaders showing off our more sophisticated, bold and _sexy _outfits!" Her words were followed by a stream of 'woos' and high pitched whistles from the crowd. Ash and Tracey straightened in their seats. This was where their patience paid off.

"First, modeling our spring lineup is Saffron's City's finest -- '_The Master of Psychic Pokemon_' -- Sabrina!" The navy haired beauty walked on stage on que, featuring a short purple spring dress. She twirled emotionless to the dance music, posed for half a second and sped walked backstage.

"Doesn't she usually have a whip with her?"

"Don't even go there, Ash."

"Pika..."

Following her was Erika in her usual custom designed kimono. The flowing flowery pattern caught the attention of the whole audience. She bowed respectfully and exited just as classy. Next was Blaine, wearing some kind of golf attire: creased khaki pants with a red argyle vest over a white polo. He stood in the spotlight stoically and walked off just as unenthusiastic. The whole room laughed.

"Suave and sweet -- please welcome Pewter Town's Gym Leader, Brock!"

Ash and Tracey gave a standing ovation for that one. Much to their surprise (and amusement) their spiky haired friend strolled out, clad in a jet-black Asian style tuxedo, escorted by two of the Nurse Joys from before. He hooked their skinny waist with each hand as they traveled the walkway. Ash and Tracey cheered and laughed, as they were the only ones who truly understood the incredibly wide smile on his face.

"Go, Brocko!"

"Enjoy it while it lasts, buddy!"

"Pika-Chu!"

The trio sat back in their seats, still in their aftermath. Ash took out his half filled popcorn bucket and continued eating while Tracey turned another fresh sheet to draw.

"Wonder when she's next?"

"Could be soon."

Nurse Joy's amplified voice broke through the mesh of voices. "Now, modeling our summer swimsuit lineup: you know her as the "_Tomboyish Mermaid!_" Introducing, Misty from Cerulean City!"

"Pikachupi!"

Ash looked up. "Did she just say _swimsuit_?"

The curtains slowly eased away, allowing her through. Slim legs glided her across the narrow stage. She wore a thin two piece bikini stringing just above her curvy midsection. Her red hair fell to her shoulders. The stray bangs grazed her forehead and down passed her neck, trailing like an after burn. Lightly oiled skin glistened in the hot lights above, and the hundreds of split second flashes from cameras to the side. Her hands dove to her hips when she reached the end of the runway and spun around once, then twice. With a nimble flip of her wrist, shed her dark sunglasses off and gave a quick wink at the two boys in the front row. She smiled softly and struck a sexy pose; the kind of toxic pose that accentuated her features in a way Ash wasn't remotely aware of before.

"Wow, she actually pulled it off, didn't she Ash? ... Ash?" Tracey turned to his younger friend when he didn't get a response. Ash's popcorn bowl fell to the floor, spilling what was left. His arm still frozen in the cupping position, along with his now empty hand that didn't even make it to his gaping mouth.

"Ash," Tracey tried again. "That was quite an introduction, wasn't it?"

Yes, it was. And for Ash, it was an introduction to some other things too.

* * *

Okay, that was so much fun to write... even though I've never been to a fashion show. I hope I pulled it off. And we don't get enough Tracey cameos, do we? He'll be in the next chapter too. Lookin' forward to it. :)


	10. Justice

**Justice**

They're dead, they're _so_ dead. They all know it too. Her patience thins with every tap her shoe commit against the kitchen floor; and not-so-blue-looking eyes searing holes in their faces. Crossing her arms, Misty looks down at her suspects, sitting side by side in their chairs, heads bowed low. They say nothing.

"So, that's how it's gonna be, huh?" Her voice breaks the silence, and catches the middle one in a nervous twitch. "Well then, that's too bad because now we have to do this the hard way." The three boys refuse her empty threats, or what they pray are empty threats.

"Last chance," she says lightly, hoping she doesn't get an answer. It's more fun this way. After an appropriate pause, Misty grins and slowly circles the boys stuck in their chairs. She pans to a white rectangular box on the table, once filled with delicious chocolate truffles. The top is carelessly strewn aside; thin wrappers cast everywhere with no attempt to cover up such an atrocity. "I couldn't have been away for a few minutes, and I come back to find my expensive box of German chocolates gone... eaten... just like _that_." She snaps her fingers at the end, causing a simultaneous flinch.

"Now I'm not mad," she says in a dangerously calm manner. "I just want to know who did it. Justice will be served."

They don't take the bait. They're smarter than that. Then, suddenly her face breaks into a subdued rage from its previous calmness. There isn't much difference between the two but the three on trial feel its effects.

Misty's stare lands on the boy to the right, shaking in his seat. "Let's start with you, Tracey."

The Pokemon Watcher gulps at the mention of his name. "Now, I've never known you for much of a sweet tooth. To tell you the truth, I don't even think you did it. But... I do think you know who did it." A smile pries her lips open. "Now be a good little watcher and tell me who it is."

Tracey's mouth hangs in the first word.

"No, don't--"

"Quiet, Brock!" Misty overrules his outburst. "Well, Tracey?"

"I... I... don't know," he finally says.

"Playing dumb, huh? Fair enough." Her circuit continues and she ends at the boy to the far left. Her face creeps over his shoulder. "Ah, Brock my old friend," she whispers sweetly in his ear. "You're a different story. You're kind, thoughtful and caring... the perfect front for a thief. You know how much I've been looking forward to eating those chocolates. But, I also know how badly you want them for yourself, just so you can get their recipe."

"You're wrong." His eyes pin forward. "I didn't do it. No one did. We were all just sitting in the living room watching the movie. It's the truth."

"I see," she agrees in a voice that's not in the least bit sympathetic. Misty completes her circle and ends in his path. "Show me your hands."

"Huh?"

"Your hands. Open them."

After some hesitation, Brock finally complies and shows the face of his hands. Misty tilts forward and scans each palm individually. They're clean unfortunately, with no trace of chocolate residue. That's two down... just one more to go.

Misty slides an inch to her right with a growing smile. "So... I guess that leaves you." The middle boy tucks his eyes under the bill of his hat and remains as still as possible. "Sorry," Misty flicks up his cap. "Not gonna work. Not this time. I should have known it was you. How could it not be you."

His face remains unreadable, as rigid as can be.

"Why don't you tell me what you were doing when I went upstairs."

He refuses to speak and locks his eyes unblinkingly with hers. After a moment in limbo, Misty straightens with a sigh. This kid's starting to learn! He's not suppose to do that! Her interrogation methods are starting to run thin. There has to be a way to catch him in the lie.

"Smile." All three cock their head to the side, even though the command is only directed at him. "You heard me."

Nothing but silence.

Misty frowns. He must know where she's going with this, he has to. How else would a blockhead like him be able to outsmart her? If showing his teeth won't reveal his guiltiness, then she just has to improvise. Guess there's only one thing left to do.

"Fine." Her hands reach his jeans, just above the knee and start to creep up his thighs. A narrow slice of air is all that separates them, and Misty can feel his hot breath against her face through the small opening of his mouth. Her tongue runs across her own, making them shiny and damp. She tilts her head and slivers her tongue pass his lips. A dizzying array of milk chocolate fills her mouth. A delectable mixture of fudge, caramel, toffee, marshmallow and nougats laps in her senses as she sucks out what's left of the evidence. She moans slightly, and surprisingly so does he.

Misty slowly pulls away, just enough to catch the guilt in his eyes; but a gratifying smile eludes her. She found the culprit, but for some reason can't come up with a proper punishment. All she can think of is how tingly her mouth feels, and how delicious chocolate tastes off his lips.

Justice is served.

* * *

I realized my challenge had a lack of kissing. Fixed. Don't forget to review! :)


	11. Kiss

**Kiss**

"So?"

"So..."

"Wasn't that scary, was it?"

"No. It... felt kinda..."

"Good?"

"Yeah."

"Have your lips always been this soft?"

"I dunno."

"They are. I like it."

"I... like yours too."

"Thanks."

"C'mere."

"W-what are you doing?"

"Will you just hold still for once?"

"..."

"God, you taste good... really good."

"Stop talking, Ash."

* * *

Originally, I was planning to write a really in-depth kissing scene. Then, out of nowhere I decided to do the opposite. Plus, your brain can articulate the details better than I ever could. I figure you can fill in the gaps. Next one will be longer. Promise.


	12. Lonely

**Lonely**

"Where is he?" an irritated Misty said, driving her hands firmly to her hips. They stood in the entry way of the hollow bar, the continuous sound of _'Free Bird'_ in their ears, waving the smoky air away.

_"If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?"_

"Dunno," he replied, sharing in the search. Then finally, before Misty's patience waned to absolute zero, they spotted him. They weaved through a staggered formation of circle tables and ended at the narrow bar. Misty leaned on the counter, to the right of their unconscious friend and crossed her arms.

She cleared her throat. "You're pathetic, you know."

The man's forehead peeled off the sticky counter top and sluggishly craned up his neck.

"I wonder how much to drink he's had this time?" Misty asked, ignoring the half dozen shot glasses in front of her.

The man smiled wearily and swung to his left. "You... look... beautiful."

Ash laughed and tossed a stale peanut in his mouth. "Well, guess that answers that question."

"Yeah, drunk enough to mistake you for a girl. Especially with your ugly mug."

"Come on, Brock," Ash said, ignoring the obvious shot to his credibility. "Let's get you home." He took his arm and yoked it around his shoulder. Misty did the same and together they dragged him away.

_"But, if I stayed here with you girl. Things just couldn't be the same..."_

"Gosh, Brock, you weigh a ton."

"And your breath could stop a Mamoswine!" Misty jerked her face away.

"One more drink... please?"

"No, you've had enough," Misty mumbled, accelerating her steps. Too bad Ash didn't notice.

CRASH!

_"And this bird you cannot change... change... change... change..."_

"Hey!" the bar tender yelled. "You break it you buy it!"

* * *

"Slow down, Misty. We don't want to get a ticket."

"Ticket? It's one in the morning."

"Duh, its the time when cops are out the most."

"Why does everything look so blurry...?"

"See, you're going too fast."

"That's 'cause he's wasted. Just keep him from ruining my seats."

"Come on, Brock, sit up."

"I don't feel so good..."

"Uh oh."

"Damn it, Ash!"

* * *

The lock gave a stubborn twitch before allowing access. The door to Brock's two bedroom apartment swung open as three adjoined human beings stumbled slowly through the threshold.

Misty slipped away as soon as the couch became visible, leaving Ash to carry Brock all by himself. Ash yelped to the increased weight and barely made it to the couch on one hopping leg. He plopped drunk Brock on the sofa and sighed with relief.

"Come on," Misty grumbled and aimed for the door. "Let's go."

"Hold on! We can't leave him like this?"

"Why not?"

"Because... look at him!"

She did. The poor man was half asleep, laying face first on the pillow, mumbling incoherently. His clothes still wreaked of boos and vomit. She could still smell him from across the room. His arm hung off the couch and twitched every so often. He let out a drawn out moan and covered his face with his jacket sleeve from the lamp Ash just turned on.

"Looks fine to me."

"We can't go."

Misty sighed and pressed her palms against her eyes. "It's late. I'm tired. I have an early day tomorrow and I still have to drive all the way back home."

"Misty... _please_?" He pressed his hands together, interlocking his fingers like a prayer. He was still sitting down and she was still standing. She looked in his ridiculously beady eyes. The tenderness of his voice touched her ears. Ash's voice was always dorky like that. Cute, honest, but still dorky. What makes 'dorkiness' so likable anyway?

She caved. "Fine. But you can't use that look on me for a whole year."

"Thanks," he smiled.

"Never mind. I'm gonna make us some coffee," and with that, she bypassed the living room and forged her way to the kitchen. Ash heard the rummaging of pots and pans. They clanged and clamored, along with a few choice words from Misty now and then. She was definitely doing something in there.

Another groan brought Ash back to his current task. He slid off the couch and propped Brock's feet up on the arm of the couch. With one firm tug on each lace, the knot unraveled and he set his shoes down side by side. Ash grabbed a thin blanket folded over the back of the couch and flung it in the air, with a grip on two corners. The blanket fully unraveled and sank in the thin space before settling on Brock.

"Thanks..." he shifted.

"You up?" Ash sat back on the edge of the cushion.

"Mm hm. Thanks for picking me up."

"Sure."

Brock grabbed his splitting head when another clang from the kitchen broke the air. "What's that?"

"It's Misty," Ash said with a chuckle. "She's trying to make coffee."

He didn't reply. He turned on his side and curled in a small ball under the thin blanket halfway covering his face. A brief paused followed.

"You know... It's a _lonely_ life you've chosen, Brock."

"Yeah?"

"Jumping from girl to girl. Never really settling down. Who was it this time? Suzy? Joy? Jenny?"

"Doesn't matter." His eyes remained closed.

"Guess not. Guess not."

"You don't understand, Ash."

"Try Me."

Brock managed to lift his heavy eyes and sit up as much as the alcohol in his system would allow, the blanket falling to his chest. "You'll never be _lonely_," he said through the percolating of a far off coffee maker. "You have Misty."

"What?"

"You'll always have Misty."

"Not this again, Brock." Ash lifted off the sofa. "How many times do I have to tell you? Misty and I are just--"

"I know, I know." He really didn't want to get into this conversation right now. Not at this hour. "I'm just sayin', out of everyone why did you come with Misty?"

"What do you mean? You called us to pick you up."

"No. No I didn't. I called _you_. You didn't have to bring her."

"Well, I sure as hell wasn't gonna carry you by myself."

"Could have called Tracey."

"I figure he'd be busy with research with Professor Oak."

"Why not Gary?"

"He's in Sinnoh. He couldn't exactly hop on a plane and help me out."

"May and Dawn are in town for a local Contest. Why didn't you ask one of them?"

"I don't know."

"My point is... out of everyone, you called Misty. You did."

"Just drop it, 'kay?"

"Fine." Brock yawned and sunk further in his cushion, tucking the blanket just below his chin. He sighed contently. "You're in love."

"You're still drunk."

"You're still in love."

"Go to sleep, Brock," Ash shook his head. His eyes traveled the room and eventually landed at the kitchen, watching Misty trying to make something, pretty unsuccessfully too. Ash chuckled, only she could make boiling water a complicated assignment. Amidst her irritation, Misty felt his eyes on her. She looked up, paused and gave him a 'what the hell are you looking at?' look. She returned to her cooking and Ash couldn't help but smile.

Maybe Brock was right. Maybe, he wouldn't have to deal with loneliness... that is, if he ever was afflicted by such. He took the part of the couch not occupied by Brock, clicked on the remote control, muted the sound and listened to him coo leftover versus.

"...and this bird you cannot change."

_

* * *

_

I wanted to do a drunk chapter for a while now. But, drunk Ash and Misty have been done... so what's the next best thing? Drunk Brock! Plus, it's probably the only situation seeing Ash and Misty in parental roles without actually being 'parents.' _"Free Bird"_ is a Lynyrd Skynyrd song, for those who don't know. Hope you enjoyed.


	13. Momentum

We're at the halfway point. Hope you've enjoyed it so far. Thank you for all your reviews. Nothing quite tops the feeling of reading your thoughts after an eight hour shift. Please don't deprive me of that joy. :)

**

* * *

  
Momentum**

"You're killing it! You're killing it!" she screamed angrily.

The tires screeched against the asphalt, leaving a wavy black trail behind them. The car came to an immediate halt, jerking their heads forward. Her body pressed on the strap diagonally fastened against her chest then vaulted a centimeter back into the chair. She opened one eye and unclenched the passenger side handle, knuckles returning their color as she did. Her body finally released its intensity and sighed with relief when she realized she was in fact, still alive.

"I said clutch first, then shift. Clutch _then _shift!" Her frustrations ended in a heavy sigh and covered her eyes with her hand.

Ash lowered his head and nervously played with his fingers. "Sorry... I forgot."

"How could you forget? I told you five minutes ago! You're lucky no one was on the road with us!"

"Stop yelling! This was your idea! I don't understand why I have to do this!"

"Because..." her sentence hung. "It's easier if you do it this way!"

"Easier?! This is anything but easy!"

"It would be if you'd listen to me!"

"I can't if you're yelling all the time!"

"Fine," Misty held her breath to reset the atmosphere. "It's like a ballet, Ash." She gestured her point, imitating how each petal should be pushed at just the right time and pressure. "This one first. That one second."

He shook his head. "You're not making any sense. Ballet? What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's a metaphor, Ash! Gosh, how _dumb _can you be?"

It was the last straw. The seat belt zipped off when he unbuckled and he stormed out the vehicle. The car shook as he angrily slammed the door, leaving her alone. Misty watched him stomp off a few yards away. Even though he was out of earshot she could tell his mood. She always could. For a minute, she was unsure how to proceed. Then, finally after cultivating enough courage she stepped out of the passenger side and shut the door, not nearly as loud.

Everything changed as soon as she exited her car. The warm salty breeze evaporated her mood in seconds, gently moving thin orange strands across her forehead. It dragged the puffy clouds along the sky. The sun lazily slid into the calm ocean, making a perfect half circle, ensuring a few precious moments of sunset left. It was a beautiful scene. They could probably enjoy it more if it weren't for the situation.

He was a few feet in front of her, slightly bent over the metal rail guarding Route 25, overlooking the serene view of Cerulean City's Cape.

She took a few long steps to join him, listening to the continuous hush of the rolling waves on the white sand.

"I'm sorry, Ash."

No answer. "Come on... don't make this hard on me. I'm just looking out for you."

"You sure have a funny way of showing it."

"I know. I know." Misty rubbed her arms and focused on the timid sunset.

"Why do I need to learn how to drive stick anyway?"

"I know its seems overwhelming, but if you learn how to do it this way you'll be able to drive any kind of car."

"It's too hard," his head sunk lower. "I can't even get out of first gear."

She leaned on the railing too. "First gears the hardest, Ash. It's just how it is."

"Why?"

The sun was almost gone now, under the ocean's infinite expanse. The last beams of light faded into nothing, ushering in the dusk.

"It's kinda hard to explain. It has to do with _momentum_."

"Mo-what-a-mum?"

"Never mind. You just need to get the car moving before you can shift into second, then third."

"Wish it was easier though."

She faced him. "It will be... once you get going. Just keep at it."

"Fine. But only if you stop yelling at me."

"You got it," she hooked her arm around his neck. "Come on, kiddo. Let's go." She pried him away from the ridge and together they started walking back to the car.

"So... momentum, huh?"

"That's right," she grinned, knocking on his head.

"Where'd you come up with that crap?"

"It's physics, dummy. All _we _really need is a little momentum."

"We?" Ash stopped. "You mean _me_, right?"

"Uh... uh..." her stammers matched her blush, and she pulled away. "Of course I meant you! Why?"

Ash lifted an eyebrow. "Nothing. For a second I thought we weren't talking about driving anymore."

"Well... we were! Are! That's all we're talking about." She made a fist and stomped the ground.

He stared at her for moment, shaking in her shoes. He shot a cocky grin and opened the driver's door. "That's too bad, Mist. Too bad."

They entered Misty's small Honda, with Ash manning the drivers seat. He started the ignition and shifted into first gear. It was a choppy take off, just like the ones before it. The car ran like it was powered with a dying battery, fast then slow and ultimately came to an abrupt halt. It was dark now, with very little light, and Ash had to turn on the high beams just to see the road ahead. It was a rough ride all the way to Misty's house but they managed to make it back in one piece. But never once did Misty get angry with him. Not for stalling the car a hundred times, or almost crashing into a telephone pole or burning through her precious gasoline. Even at one in the morning when they mutually opted to try for another day, she never rose her voice or slapped him upside the head.

He still has trouble starting the car and grinds the gears to no end. Why he doesn't buy his own car rather than wreck hers is beyond her, but she never hesitates when he asks her for a lesson now and then. It always ends with a few near death experiences and very little progress, but Misty remains content and hopeful. She realized something that night by the Cerulean Light House, overlooking the ocean. All that boy needs is a little bit of momentum to get going. Who knows, maybe... just maybe those properties might transfer with her too.

* * *

This is for all those who have attempted a manual transmission. Don't forget to review! :)


	14. Nobody

**Nobody**

"What are you doing here?" She towered in the arch of the doorway, crossing her arms like a protection. He swallowed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. The pierce from her stare forced his eyes to the ground.

"Just passing through."

"Passing through from where?"

He finally gathered something akin to courage and lifted his eyes. "You know... places."

She scoffed. "Places!? That's original!"

"Yeah, well... seems to be working for me."

"Glad to hear it."

"Yeah."

Her eyes narrowed into blue slices, gashing what life was left in his bones. "So, what are you doing here?" she asked again, this time more forcefully.

"Nothing, really. Just--"

"He hasn't missed you," she interrupted.

"I'm sure he hasn't."

"Never says a word about you."

"I wouldn't expect he would."

"Do you know why he doesn't miss you? 'Cause you're a nobody! And _nobody _misses a nobody!"

"It's been seventeen years!" he pleaded, opening his palms.

Her eyes open wide with shock. "Oh, you remember how long it's been. I am impressed."

"Yeah, well... I always could count," he shrugged timidly.

"And your list of attributes ends there!" She puffed her chest and shoved the air forward.

He shrunk back a few paces. "Hey! Don't stand there and pretend you know me or know what I've been through!" His voice was still shaky and weak despite its angry tone. He couldn't match her indignation.

Her hands involuntary shot in the air then dove to her side, as if it took everything she had not to inflict any physical harm. "You're right, I don't know you. The only information I have is what Delia has told me. You do remember Delia, right?"

"Of course I do!"

"You went out... but you never came back. She can't get pass that part without crying her eyes out!" Her voice squeaks at the end, as if feeling her pain entirely, in one foul swoop.

"A lot of time has passed and a lot of things have changed."

"Really? Like what things? You?"

"Yes, me! Maybe... why not?"

She stabbed her finger in his direction, with every 'you' she said. "Come on! _You _never called before. Why now? What do _you _want? _You _need money?"

"What?"

"He doesn't have any!"

"I don't need money."

"I don't have any either!"

"I don't need money!!"

"So the look is a choice?"

"I... I just wanted to... I don't know, _see _him."

"Why now?" she demanded.

"I don't know. I just thought it was time. Time to... be there for him."

"Be there for him?!" She clenched her fists till her knuckles turned a ghostly white. Every muscle, bone and sinew ached to tear him away from her sight. "Where were you when he lost the Indigo League? Or when he challenged the Sinnoh Champion or the hundreds of thousands of other times he could've needed your help! Where were you then, huh? I've been there for him! _Me_!" She stomped the floor and seemed to grow a few inches taller while doing it."

"I..."

"...and the last thing he needs is a special appearance by his father who can't be there for any good reason!"

"There's no evil plan here. I have a job, a life. I just thought I'd come and..."

"What?! Say hello, see if he looks like you? Then what?"

"Well..."

"What?!"

"I don't know!" he groaned, raking his hands through his hair.

"Okay, well, while you're figuring it out, let me plant this little thought in your head: You do or say anything to upset him and make it harder for me to keep him on the right path I'm gonna put your head through a wall! Any wall, you can pick the wall but it's gonna be a wall! Got it?!" Her arm craned to his face to end this useless conversation. To end this useless man.

He sighed, at a loss for words. She was right. There was nothing of significance left to say. "I just wanted to see my son."

She claimed the leftover space between them, making sure his dark brown eyes could clearly see her. Only her. "Well, you saw him. Now _get_ outta here."

"Hey, Misty!"

She swung her head back, hand immediately shooting to the knob. She closed the door tighter, body still in the doorway. "Yes?"

Ash flew down the stairs and jumped over the couch's back onto the cushion. He bobbed there happily for a second and waved a thin case in his hand. "I finally found that old DVD of classic Pokemon Battles. Wanna watch it with me?"

Misty paused and prayed the few seconds would erase the distress from her voice. She exhaled shakily.

"Yeah, I'll be right in." She looked back outside. The man was gone. Ash peeked his head out from behind her shoulder, just as the exhaust from a yellow and black checkered taxi disappeared into nothing... hopefully for good.

"Who was at the door?"

"Nobody, Ash," she whispered. "It was nobody."

* * *

Wow, I literally wrote that in twenty minutes. I hope it flowed naturally. Just so there's no more confusion, Misty was talking to Ash's father, the same man who's never made an appearance in Ash's life. It's a part of A&M's relationship that's rarely explored. Misty is very protective of that boy and will do anything to keep him safe. :)

Inspiration: "Say Goodnight, Gracie."


	15. Oh!

**Oh!**

"Oh my God!" Misty shrieked in a blaze down the hallway. She finally made it to the living room, greeted by the shrill laughter of Pikachu rolling uncontrollably on the floor.

"S-shut up!" she covered her face, only adding to Pikachu's fun. "Ohmygod! Ohmygod!"

"What the hell, Misty?" Ash darted from his room, soaked to the bone with nothing but a towel around his waist. He traveled as fast as the towel allowed and pointed a finger. "Why would you just barge in like that?"

"I'msorryi'msorryi'msosorry!"

He stood over a completely saturated piece of carpet and wiped his face with his one free hand.

"I thought you had two bathrooms!"

"You think I can afford two bathrooms on my salary?!"

"I thought you did!"

"Well... CLEARLY I DON'T!"

"Sorry! I wasn't thinking!" She staggered away from his naked body, face completely red. "I swear I didn't mean to see your thing! I mean, anything! _Anything_!"

The mention of a private peepshow only flustered Ash more and he turned away to redo the knot for less exposure.

"I only saw a bunch of steam! Promise!"

As if on cue, a thin layer of mist seeped in the living room from the still running shower, reminding Ash it was time to go. This near pointless conversation was costing him quite a bit of hot water. He growled, turned away and disappeared into the fog. It was the last time he let Misty stay over his apartment. Who cares if her Gym was being fumigated? She could stay with his Mom back in Pallet, a park bench... or hell, hop a ship to Sinnoh and bunk with Dawn for all he cared. It wasn't worth the aggravation.

"Oh..." Misty collapsed on the couch, burying her head into a pillow, with the muffled sound of Pikachu's laughter still in her ears; the only one who's life was enriched by the incident. It was the last time she asked Ash to stay over at his apartment. Who cares if her Gym was being fumigated? She could always spend a few nights at Delia's. Even camping outside sounded more appealing. Dawn mentioned she had a spare room. This kinda thing would never happen in Sinnoh. Sure, she would pay through the nose, but who needs this aggravation?

"Pikapika!"

She slapped her face with the pillow and sighed. "Leave me alone..."

* * *

Well... it's back to the humor. I'm trying to mix it up. Getting a more rounded piece going here. ;)


	16. Perfect

**Perfect**

He was a pathetic sight, standing on her door step, downtrodden and completely soaked from the rain. She looked him up and down, from head to toe. His hair was unkempt and messy, eyes worn from the long run. Still decked in his trainers outfit, completely under dressed for the occasion. No suit, no tie... not even a simple dress shirt. His jeans were faded and blotched with dirt, grime and a few other unknown substances. The shoes he wore were ordinary, nothing special. She had seen them before, just not so much encrusted with mud.

His arms fell to his side, hand clenching and un-clenching a single red rose. The rose looked familiar too, and after she peered at her flower bed outside she was convinced. He had no _real _present. No chocolates, no tiny trinket... not even something she didn't already have. It's just like him to offer her a flower picked from her _own _garden.

They stood in the doorway, him panting and her not saying a word. Their eyes interlocked and amazingly carried on an argument in silence. They had years of practice, after all. She had said 'be here at six.' He remembered something closer to seven thirty. His case was less valid since it was pushing nine-o-clock anyway. Of course he didn't call beforehand, in his haste he forgot his cell phone. _Of course_.

As his apology sputtered in the form of collapsed sentences, she silenced him with a finger pressed perpendicularly to his chapped lips. Wordless, she smiled, brought him closer and gently kissed him on the forehead. He winced and tried to wipe off the wet mark left behind by her red lips, red lips matching her satin dress and high heels.

Yes, he was three and a half hours late. Yes, he looked like an idiot who rolled his way through the storm to get there. Yes, he wasn't considerate enough to leave a message or remember to get her an actual gift. Yes, he didn't have an excuse that didn't involve training, Pokemon or Team Rocket's ungodly sense of timing. Yes, it wasn't the way to start a first date or any type of relationship in general. But that didn't matter; it never did. She loved him just the way he was. He was _perfect _just the way he was.

* * *

Jeez, someone hand me the milk to go with my fluff chex, please? :)


	17. Quiz

Okay, this one's a little long to be in an Alphabet Challenge... oh well. I won't tell if you won't.

* * *

**Quiz**

Misty scanned her copy of _Water Pokemon Quarterly_. She enjoyed the gentle escape it brought every three months, when it arrived in the mail, making all other letters expendable. It featured the lighter side of Pokemon Training. Not that her job was necessarily the darker side, it was just plain _reality_. The reality of leveling her Pokemon up to keep pace with the trainers itching for a badge, or trying to deduce a perfect defensive tactic from electric attacks no one had discovered yet. As much as she adored Water Pokemon, even she could admit the dietary habits of Goldeen were flat out boring or the social behaviors of Majikarp were insufferable at best.

Yes, this magazine was her coveted pride and joy. It ventured into the exciting strategies of Water Pokemon Training: new moves, battling strategies, even newly discovered Pokemon. There were interest articles, statistical breakdowns, even a small blurb from Lorelei here and there.

She finally managed the discipline to finish her chores early that day, and on an afternoon where the Gym was closed from office hours, Misty beamed with freedom when she successfully bought out a whole day dedicated to herself.

Or so she thought.

Like the annoying pester of an alarm clock, the shrill laughter of her older sisters interrupted her much deserved peace. Instantly, Misty's body tensed and her eyes lost their spot. She was almost at the end of the third article too. Leave it to the infamous Sensational Sisters to squash any trace of relaxation once it's found. They strolled through the door, fingers wrapped around mocha lattes, designer clothing and cells phones mashed between ear and shoulder.

"Back from the brothel, ladies?"

"The what?" Daisy flipped off her sunglasses and dropped her shopping bags in the middle of the living room.

"Must be fancy for 'mall,'" Violet piped. She blew on her freshly manicured nails and took the couch opposite to Misty's.

"Wow, someone's grouchy for 3:30 in the afternoon."

"Just thought you'd be gone the whole day, that's all," Misty grinned insincerely, flipping to a new page.

"We were, but our dinner plans got canceled."

"Yeah, those guys don't know what they're missing."

"Shame," Misty said blandly and buried further in her article, blocking them from sight.

"By the way, did you get the pool clean this morning, sis?... sis?"

"Forget it, she's preoccupied," Lilly laughed. "You can't pry her from that magazine to save her life."

More like _ignoring _than being preoccupied. Misty turned another page and pressed on. The notion of reading for pleasure was lost on the three of them, but Misty's behavior did however perk a memory.

"Hey, that's right!" Daisy squealed with glee. Her slender fingers dove in one of her bags and resurfaced with a magazine of her own. The very sight of it bubbled Lilly and Violet's interest too and they huddled around Daisy like a pack of Houndoom.

Their girlish chirps piqued Misty's curiosity and she broke her concentration to look. She wish she hadn't. They were reading _Glamour Magazine!_ Quintessentially the exact opposite of her reading material, with all the mind numbing minutia of celebrity gossip and fashion tips to go with it.

Back to something more stimulating. Misty wrinkled her forehead and focused on her magazine. Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly enough to block out those three.

"Look, Lance has a new girl friend!"

"What happened to him and Cynthia?"

"Old news, girl!"

"Yeah, didn't you read last weeks issue!"

"Jeez Louise!" Misty huffed, snapping the pages shut, effectively killing her muse. "Will you do that someplace else? Trying to read here!"

"So are we!"

"Dishing about Lance's latest squeeze is _not _reading!"

Violet made a face. "At least its better than what your doing."

Misty rolled her eyes. "Yeah, brushing up on Water Pokemon. How on earth could that enrich _our _lives?! I wonder!"

"Tell you what, little sis," Daisy said crossing her legs. Instinctively, the others followed suit. "We'll leave you alone if you can pass this quiz."

"Quiz? What quiz?"

Her finger tapped the cover. "The one in this magazine."

"Why should I? So you can ask me about the latest sex trends? Forget it."

"Either that or we stay. Final offer," they said in a creepy unison.

Misty wasn't about to indulge such idiocies but the chance for some real peace and quiet was too tantalizing to pass up. Besides, she could fake her way through a small fashion inquiry or relationship test. She was a girl, last time she checked.

"Okay," Misty folded her arms. "Shoot."

"Good." Daisy tapped her chest twice, cleared her throat and announced the title. _"'Test your compatibility with the latest Pokemon Master.'"_

"What?"

Lilly pulled the page her way and resumed. _"'Five Questions to determine if your Mrs. Right for Mr. Ash Ketchum.' _Juicy, aint it?"

Misty sighed and slouched in her chair. Was her dignity the price for peace and quiet? It was only five questions, though. She could BS them quick enough.

"Question 1," Lilly began. "What is your favorite type of Pokemon? A - _Fire _B - _Electric _C - _Rock or _D - _Water_."

"Seriously?! That's the first question?"

"I know, I know. Too obvious. Moving on."

Misty glowered. This was going to be the longest ten minutes of her life.

Lilly continued. "Question 2: How do you wish to live your life? A - _Adventure after adventure_ B - _Get married and settle down_ or C - _Stay single the rest of your life."_

"Easy," Misty scoffed. "That's 'C' all the way."

Her sister marked the answer, hidden from Misty's vision.

"Okay, my turn!" Daisy yanked it from Lilly's grasp. "Question 3: What is your favorite kind of Pokemon?"

"You asked me that already."

"Let me finish. 'What is your favorite _kind _of Pokemon? A - _Big and Intimidating_ B - _Friendly and lovable_ or C - _Strong and fast_.'"

Misty scrunched her eyebrows together. This one required more forethought than the last Pokemon question. 'Big and Intimidating' was out of the question. Yet, she did like a Pokemon who was quick and could take a hit. What was "B" again? In her mind's eye, she saw the Pokemon she was closest to: Togetic, Pikachu, even that dopey Psyduck of hers.

"B."

"Got it."

"Next," Violet barred her teeth. "Question 4. What is the most important thing in the world to you? A - _A successful career_ B - _Family and friends_ or C - _Money and fame_."

Misty sat up for this one. Who knew a quiz from _Glamour Magazine!_ could have so much... depth? Sure, Misty wanted a successful career, what young woman doesn't? But somehow, taking that option seemed a little vain. She wasn't shallow enough to go the materialistic route either. Family was important, present company excluded. Yes, her sisters were a pain, but her thoughts did land on her parents, despite the little memories she had left of them. Then there were her friends: Ash, Brock, Tracey, May, Max, Dawn... she loved them all.

"'B'... but that doesn't include you three."

They giggled and circled her answer. "Question 5," Daisy chimed. "How would you describe yourself? A - _Easy and outgoing_ B - _Quiet and reserved_ or C - _Angry and hostile_."

"Oh, next question!" Misty blurted automatically.

"Come on, just answer it."

"Fine. 'A!'"

"Uh... no. Don't worry, we'll just answer for you."

"What?! No!"

Too late. Judging by their high pitched giggles she didn't even have to guess which option they put down. They knew her best. They were her sisters, after all. But amidst her irritation Misty realized it was the last one. The quiz was done, finished, fineto! Peace and quiet at last.

"Okay... shoo now," she said with a deft flick of her wrist. She kicked her feet up on the couch and ripped open her magazine to its dog eared spot.

"But Misty, don't you want to know how you did?"

"Not even a little bit."

"But Misty..."

"I'm reading here."

"Why not?"

"Because, I know what answers Ash picked for himself." Her eyes never wavered from the page. "We're not the same in the slightest."

"Really?"

"Sure. For Question 1 he chose Electric. Pikachu, of course. He picked 'A' for Question 2, obviously. He chose 'B' for 3 and 4 and Ash is totally 'A' for Question 5. Easy!"

There was a long pause - and ironically it captured Misty's attention. No idiotic backtalk, no annoying laughter or belittling comment. Misty finally pried off the page and turned to three incredibly wide smiles on three incredibly confident perky adults.

"No, you don't understand, Misty," Daisy beamed devilishly. "It wasn't a quiz to see if you and Ash picked the same answers. He picked the answers he thought his dream girl would choose."

She leaned forward, with a tenuous hold on her magazine. "What?"

"Like yeah. You weren't being compared to him. You were being compared to the type of girl he likes."

"Well... w-what was my score?"

"Oh no," Daisy began. "I think its time we held up our end of the bargain. Let's go ladies," and together they sprung off their seats and aimed for the exit.

"Come back here! Tell me my score!" Misty demanded, crunching the magazine in her hand.

"It's a match made in heaven!"

"Yeah, I hear wedding bells!"

"Time to shop for a dress!"

"Damn it! Tell me!" Misty screamed, throwing her crumpled magazine across the room. It slammed against the door just as it shut and came to an unceremonious thud on the carpet. She screamed again, plowing her fingers through her red hair. Leave it to the Sensational Sisters, the unholy trinity of everything girlie to ruin her peace by simply leaving a room. The room was empty now, with no disruptions in sight. But Misty could only manage a faint moan as she buried her face in her pillow and wonder where her magazine had gone to. That same 'treasure' lying wrinkled on the floor, disregarded, half read and clearly out shined.

They never revealed the results to that damned quiz too.

* * *

Tell me the truth, you took the quiz yourself, didn't you? It's okay, you can tell me. :D If you want you can put your answers to the quiz in your review. Might be fun.

Also, many portray Misty's sister's as incredibly stupid and valley girl-ish. Even though it's most likely the case, I try to strike an even balance when I write them. Thanks for reading.


	18. Resolutions

Originally written for a New Years challenge by _marixoxella_. This is for her.

* * *

**Resolutions****  
**

_11:50_

"Wake up... wake up."

"Hmm?" Ash rubbed the sleep from his eyes; a meager yawn pulling him out of his temporary lapse of consciousness. His blurry eyes re-focused and landed on the glowing television set, then to the girl beside him.

"Come on, you promised you'd stay awake this time." Misty rolled her eyes and shook him playfully by the shoulder.

The fuzziness began to clear from Ash's mind, and he sat up straight on the coach. He must have dozed off, for the third time that night. A slightly irked Misty sat Indian-style to his left, with a bucket of popcorn on her lap. She grabbed some by the handful and destroyed it in one or two bites.

Ash leaned in to see her choice of snacks: A king-size soda, red vines, chocolate covered unknowns and the aforementioned barrel of popcorn, which on second glance looked glazed with caramel. The very sight made his stomach churn. It was probably her dinner too.

"Gross. How can you eat all that?"

Misty sucked a caramel drenched finger clean. "Please... you like candy too."

"Not for three square meals a day. You should really learn how to eat better."

"Probably."

"I don't know how you can keep your figure when eat so bad."

"I have a figure?"

"Never mind."

Misty giggled, tossed in a piece of chocolate and downed the remains of her soda. The straw made a choking sound as she forced out the last of the liquid; and with a satisfied moan, continued devouring the popcorn with glee.

"So, how long is this supposed to last?" Ash turned back to the television set.

"Till twelve... just like last year... and all the years before that," she said through yummy crunches.

Ash stretched, trying to work out the kinks still plaguing his body. "I still don't know why you wanted me to stay up for this. Pretty boring if you ask me."

"Boring?" Misty echoed. "New Years isn't boring! It's fun!"

Ash took a second look at his surroundings. It was some party. They were the only ones there. Delia went to sleep hours ago. Tracey usually spent holidays with the Oaks. Brock went home to visit family, as did May, Max and Dawn.

For some bizarre reason, Ash and Misty always ended up spending New Years Eve together. Two years ago it was at Professor Oak's lab. Last year everyone pitched in to rent a room at Saffron City's luxury hotel suite. But this year everyone had plans, except for them.

Ash continued watching the broadcast, with just enough interest keeping him from shutting off the TV himself. This year's show originated in Golden Rod. Thousands of people came from every city and region to see the ball drop at the stroke of midnight.

The camera panned to a massive mechanical Voltorb stationed on top of a giant rod. In just a few minutes, it would plunge to the meticulous counting of the crowd and end in a brilliant display of colors, lights and confetti. Yeah, pretty boring.

At least there was a Voltorb. It was the only thing keeping Ash interested. An electric Pokémon using 'explosion' to bring in the New Year did make some sense. A brief chuckle escaped his lips as he mentally exchanged the fake Pokémon with a real Voltorb. Now that would be entertaining!

"Don't," Misty grinned, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Ash, why don't you like New Years?"

He shrugged without eye contact. "I like New Years fine. It's all those stupid resolutions I hate."

"Resolutions?! I love New Years resolutions! What's wrong with them?"

"What's right with them!? They don't do any good to anyone!"

She pouted. "Well, you're wrong."

"Am I?"

"Yep."

"Really? How about when Brock promises he'll lay off the swooning every year? Last time he went a good seven minutes before Nurse Joy strolled in. Or that year Tracey wanted to take up photography... that didn't last long. May and Max tried swearing off arguing with each other. Don't even get me started on Dawn's 'no makeup for a week' thing. Forget it!"

"Bad examples, Ash."

"All five?"

"Yeah, I mean, resolutions are suppose to improve your life. It's a way of making you a better person. Come on, trainer-boy you can relate to that."

Ash scoffed. Curse her for trying to appeal to his competitive side. A staring contest with the television was a better option than talking to her.

"I think they're nice," Misty started again, not missing a step. "They test strength and character. Ash, don't you think resolutions are _romantic_?"

He glanced her way with an inward chuckle. The very fact she asked him that proved how little she knew him. Maybe she was just being hopeful. Regardless, Ash lost his match against the TV and met with her eyes.

"I'll bite," he smiled. "Let's do them. Right now."

"Do what?"

"Resolutions."

"Really?"

"Sure, we still got time." He scanned the ticking clock above. _11:55_.

"Alright. I think—"

"Nope. I get to choose yours."

"What?"

"It's more fun that way. Why, you scared?"

Misty narrowed her eyes. Curse him for trying to appeal to her competitive side.

"I'm in," she replied without pause.

"Let's see. Well, first we'll start with your diet."

"My diet?"

He nodded. "You need to eat healthier. A few vegetables here and there, some high fiber cereal in the morning. You get the picture."

"But..."

"Oh, and would it kill you to catch a non-water Pokémon for a change?"

"I have!"

"Not recently." The more his smile grew, the more she wanted to rake her fist across his face. "You could stand to be a little nicer, you know. The whole 'Cinderella-youngest-sister-everyone-hates-me' thing really gets old."

She twitched. "Excuse me?"

"Everyone's got family problems, jeez!"

"Okay, okay, okay," she sputtered to quell his onslaught. "How about you, Ash? Did you think you were all wonderful and perfect?"

"Yes."

"You're not. You're gonna take up reading!"

"Hey, I read!"

"Books, Ash! You're going to read a book. Every day."

"EVERY DAY!?" he gasped, horrified of the thought. "Can't it be once a month?"

"Nope. You have to start training harder too."

"What's wrong with my training?"

"How many times have you beaten Paul again?"

"Low blow. Fine," Ash grumbled, pressing his hands against his face.

Misty barred her teeth happily. This _was_ fun. "You have to be more romantic too."

"Romantic?" he winced.

"Yep, the new Ash is going to be more romantic!"

He groaned uncomfortably and scratched the back of his head. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Misty continued. "I'm talking about roses, romantic movies, poetry... the whole bit."

"NO!" Ash stood up, knocking stray popcorn to the floor. "I'm drawing the line there! I can deal with all the other stuff but I won't do that!"

"You have to!" she matched his height. "This was your idea!"

"Well, you can't make me!"

"Yes I can! It's part of the rules!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Fine! You want me to be more romantic?"

"Yes, I d—"

She didn't get a chance to finish because he covered her lips with his. He held her by the shoulders, titled his head and savored the ungodly taste of caramel, artificially flavored cherries and flat Dr. Pepper. Misty straightened, shut her eyes and parted his lips with her tongue. Before she knew it, the kiss was over. She fell back onto the coach in a daze, hearing Ash stomp off upstairs to brush his teeth, mumbling incoherently. Misty touched her lips and smiled.

_12:01_. This year's gonna be fun.

* * *

Here's to a Misty cameo in 2010. Till then...


	19. Surprise

**Surprise**

"Quick! Kill the lights! I think I hear 'em coming!"

"Ow, Drew you're stepping on my leg!"

"Shh! Quiet back there!"

_Wiggle, wiggle, click... creeeakkk._

"SURPRISE!!"

_

* * *

_

It wasn't _really _a surprise, not for Ash. But he did manage a believable expression shaded under the bill of his hat and a shot to Brock's arm for leading him astray, just for appearances.

"Just pretend you didn't know, okay?" Brock whispered in his ear and pushed him toward the crowd. Ash stumbled right into the suffocating hug of his mother, who buried him fervently with her arms.

"Oh, honey, I'm so proud of you!" she squealed with tears forming in her eyes.

"Mom, a little room please?"

"Oh, sure," she said, finally separating. Still with a tight hold around his shoulder, she panned the Ketchum living room, not nearly as he remembered it. "Do you like it, sweetheart? We were up all night decorating. It's all for you, sweetie!"

The unfamiliar house veiled with lights, streamers, balloons and a giant banner with his name printed on it. Ash brushed some confetti off his shoulder and dug his hands deep in his pockets. "Thanks, Mom," he muttered softly. His eyes slid over a little, with a lowly sigh barely audible over the racket filling the air.

"Where you goin'?" he asked a noticeably sly Brock long stepping away.

"Open bar. Want something?"

"No thanks. Just don't let me catch you singing Aretha Franklin on the dinner table."

He squished his smile up til it met his nose. "Hey, look who you're talking to."

"Right..."

* * *

"Something's bothering you, Ash."

"What do you mean?"

Max pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "You're reaction. It was pretty weak, if you ask me."

"Oh that. Brock let the party slip earlier."

"What a surprise," he muttered. "I could tell."

* * *

"So..." Ash rubbed the back of his head, blinking awkwardly at the two in front of him. "This is a surprise. How long has this been going on?"

May's smile grew as she squeezed her man tighter. "Just recently. We're celebrating our second weekie-versary!"

Drew rolled his eyes. "Please don't. It sounds gay if you say it like that." He wriggled for freedom but only managed an arm.

"How is dating a girl gay, exactly?" She glanced over. "Ash?"

"Hey, don't drag me into this," he rose his arms in protest. "But it's good to see you two."

"Yeah, same here," Drew nodded, finally easing to May's deathly hold. "Guess we'll see you around then?"

"Yup... gotta make the rounds," Ash shrugged, sliding away.

"Bye, Ash! We'll be here!"

"Unfortunately."

* * *

"It was such a surprise, I just couldn't believe it!"

"Mm hm," Ash nodded routinely, his disinterest clearly not detected.

He went on. "I know I've been working in that lab for a while but I never thought I'd actually have a part in the actual research. It's a dream come true. I mean, the assistant usually does the menial tasks, the grunt work, you know what I mean? But now I get to study Pokemon and their behavior for a living! I still can't believe Professor Oak trusted me with such a high honor! It's such an amazing feeling. I few years ago I was just a humble Pokemon Watcher from the Orange Islands begging for a job. Sure, I'll keep on drawing but now I'm a junior researcher! Can you believe it, Ash?... Ash?"

"What?!" his head shot up, breaking his staring match with the ground. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Tracey titled his head. "Something wrong, man? You seem... distracted."

"I'm fine." He swished his untouched glass of champagne and scanned everywhere but the fore. "Just looking for someone," and let the newly appointed researcher jabber merrily on his way.

* * *

"It was awesome! You should have been there! Piplup was just about to give up when he managed one more Whirlpool attack!" Dawn took a stance to gesture her point. Her hands shot above her head and pushed the imaginary water forward, almost hitting Ash in the face while doing it. "Time ran out and Piplup and I ended with the highest point total."

Her exuberance sparked a grin.

"Yeah... I beat down Kenny so badly! It was so great, annndd..." her hand dove in her purse to retrieve the whole point to her story and brought the shiny Grand Festival ribbon against her cheek. "I earned this."

"Good job."

"I have a surprise for you too," she reached for her purse again.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's your day, after all. Here," she maintained her infectious grin and dropped the present in his outstretched palm. "It's my first ribbon ever. The one from Floaroma, remember?"

"I... I can't take this."

"Sure you can. It's my way of saying thanks. I guess I just wanted to tell you... I couldn't have done it without your help." She wrapped her thin arms around his neck and leaned in.

"Uh... you're welcome."

"And chin up, she'll be here eventually."

"What? Who?"

"Oh," she cracked a giggle. "My mistake."

* * *

Professor Oak looked around, just above the heads he was no longer taller than. "Where's that boy of ours?"

"I thought I saw him talking to Tracey a while ago."

"Is he enjoying his surprise party?"

"I don't know. Guess you'll have to ask him and find out."

* * *

A long sigh. It was all Ash could muster as he shut the door behind him. Finally, he made it outside, free from the maze of bodies and insistent talk of the future. He reached the wooden railing of the back porch and threw out what little champagne was left in his glass. He placed it on the patio table and outlined the tip with his finger. Taking in some air, he held it, and released it shakily till there was nothing left. The wispy exhalation twisted, folded and disappeared into the cold night sky. His eyes wandered the scenery: cleanly cut grass, trees in full foliage and flowers in mature bloom. The sight of his childhood did settle his nerves a bit, but still felt detached. Maybe it was because...

"Surprise!" The voice with quickly followed by hands over his eyes. Ash straightened and spun around, meeting with two familiar green ones.

A genuine smile. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," she said returning the favor. "What are you doing out here? This is your party."

"Just needed some space... to think."

"Oh yeah? 'Bout what?"

"Why everyone's happier at this party than I am."

She slid to his left and joined him in his stare, elbows balancing on the railing. "What do you mean?"

"Well... May and Drew are a couple now. Dawn just won the Johto Grand Festival. Tracey got promoted. They're all so... happy."

"And you?"

There was a long pause, and eventually the silence rounded out his answer. He stole a glance of her. "Why weren't you there for my final battle?"

Her guilt was apparent, as evident by her sigh. "I was busy, Ash. I... I wanted to come, but I couldn't."

"Would've been a nice surprise," he said, just above a whisper. "Did you at least get something for me now?"

She laughed. "No. Should I have?"

"Yes, you should have!" they knocked shoulders. "Everyone else did."

"Nope. Sorry."

Her phony apology incited a smirk as he walked to the door. "You coming?"

She didn't give a response and as he reached for the knob, he felt something tug on his arm. He didn't even remember turning because her lips were suddenly pressed on his, flushed perfectly in a titled angle. He caught her by the waist and guided her closer. The warmth infusing their body lasted even after they parted and he stared into those deep green eyes just inches from his.

"Surprised now, Mr. Pokemon Master?"

He nodded blankly

"Come on. Brock was hittin' the sauce pretty hard when I left him. How much you wanna bet he sings 'Respect'?"

"Aretha Franklin?"

"Of course, he always does."

With a jolted look still slapped on his face, she took him by the wrist and guided him back to the party. All the sudden, Tracey's drivels were tolerable, Dawn's joy was matchable and May's excitement was oddly superseded in every single way. Why things were different afterward, he never quite figured out. But he did know this: surprise parties rock!

* * *

Blast! I wanted to write more drabbles with various people, but I couldn't think of any more. I tried to make Ash kinda 'sleep walking' the entire party, that is, until the very end. And I know the Aretha Franklin reference was random, I really don't know why I put it in there. Maybe it was to show they were on the same wave length. Yeah, let's go with that. ^^;


	20. Tired

Post _'A Date With Delcatty'_

**

* * *

**

**Tired**

"Nice place you got here." His eyes wandered her body, from her hair, across her face then finally to her hand scribbling furiously on some scattered notes. Avoiding his stare, her head never wavered from the page despite the attempted compliment, like he wasn't even there. He lifted to his tip toes, both elbows propping him high enough to see her over the counter top.

He made a curious murmur to grab her attention. Nothing. Ignored again.

He cleared his throat intentionally and tapped the marble counter top with his finger. The incessant noise caused a sharp flinch, a pause to start a new paragraph but nothing more. This wasn't working.

"So, when are you off?"

"Never."

Finally, a word out of her! Albeit a bland, single grunt but at least it was _something_. Fifteen minutes of waiting around finally earned him some acknowledgment.

"Really? Do you even get a break?"

"Nope."

His eyes widened with sarcasm. "Wow, this is a horrible place! Who's your boss?"

"I'm working here." Her pencil accidentally slipped from her hand and it rolled under the desk. She didn't care, it was dulled to a numb anyway. Misty sighed and straightened in her chair. "Go away."

"Ah, come on," he pried, running a hand through his chestnut hair. "No one's walked in since I've been here."

"Georgio, I have a lot of work to do." Her hand cradled her lowered head and massaged her temples. She wasn't lying just to get rid of him, although she wouldn't give it a second thought if she was. A whole day's work of cleaning, battling and feeding had taken its toll, and the usual satisfaction of a job 'well done' seemed to elude her. All this left Misty exhausted, and she wasn't up for dealing with people she wasn't particularly fond of. Not to mention the daunting stack of papers before her, no matter how hard she tried it would not lesson.

"I'm really tired. Just go home."

"If you're tired then let me take you out."

"Georgio," she groaned sourly, a tone she had used on him before. "Just leave."

"What? You look like you need a break. I've got the whole night wide open. What's the problem?"

"I told you. I don't... w-we can't," her defense died with a catch in her throat and she abandoned the plea altogether. "What happened to Casey? Why don't you go out with her?"

He scoffed. "That chick's whacked! If it's not yellow, black and can recite the entire Electabuzz fight song she's not interested." He leaned in closer with a cocky grin curling his mouth. "Besides, I'd rather go out with someone else."

"Don't do this."

"Why? You _know _how I feel about you."

Immediately, Misty stood up and knocked the chair off its legs. She circled the desk without a word and ended at the exit, holding the door open.

"Come on," he said with a cagey chuckle. "I won't take no for an answer."

"Go," she ordered with a hand stiff against the glass.

"Fine," Georgio crossed his arms and submitted, for now. He slowed to a halt as he passed her, nearly out the door. He looked down briefly then met with her eyes. "Don't you get _tired_ waiting around for him?"

She lost her breath, like her rib cage collapsed in her chest. She turned away.

"He's been gone a long time; off having the time of his life."

"Stop," she whispered.

"He's moved on. Probably forgot all about this place, about you. He's traveling the world. He'll keep doing it too, from region to region with a brand knew girl to gawk at."

"It's not like that."

"If I were you, I'd tell him off for hookin' you like this."

"Please, just g--"

"Yeah, he's a jerk!"

"NOW!!" Her shoe stomped the tile floor, with so much force it hurt. Her knuckles shook the door handle, fingers turning a bony white. The 'now' she screamed with so much ferocity echoed off the walls and returned to their ears like a hundred other Misty's said it a split second after her. What little patience remained was obliterated as she slammed the door on him in mid sentence.

The room reached a familiar emptiness. Misty turned and leaned on the tinted glass, locking the door from behind. The energy slowly drained from her body, slipping from every joint until it vacated completely. She sunk to the floor until her knees bent to her stomach, arms curling around her legs.

She stayed there all night, quiet without feeling. She never shed a single tear, as if she was too sad to do so. She never screamed once, as if she was too upset to do so. She never paced the room or threw one of her shoes against the wall, as if she was too angry to do so. The truth was he was right. She was tired of always thumbing through the mail, hoping for a poorly addressed letter with his childish handwriting on it. Tired of staring at her phone, wishing it would trill his incoming alert, the one she assigned just for him. Tired of the late nights where sleep felt more like a distraction than a pleading necessity.

She was tired of everything. And no amount of 'girls night outs,' afternoon naps or new haircuts would make it better.

* * *

I know, one-sided Pokeshipping isn't exactly popular. I gotta have at least one angst chapter in this. Wouldn't be me if there wasn't. Plus, lately I've been feeling like Misty in this chapter so maybe that's where this came from. [/rant]


	21. Untitled

'U' was being seriously difficult.

* * *

**Untitled**

Ash stares into the ceiling fan. The thin blades slice the air as he pulls the covers under his chin for more warmth. His eyes move to his right, to the girl just inches away, shivering under those same covers. He can make out her delicate shape, against the thin blanket pretending to hide her body. Misty takes her share of the covers and bunches it just above her chest. She sits up on the pillow -his pillow- and moves a wild bang back into her messy hair.

She looks sad, as his eyes caress her body. Misty steals another few inches of his blanket and tucks it under her thigh. The covers flush against her slender form and he can oddly see everything and nothing at the same time.

"So," his voice begins weakly, like he hasn't used it in ages. "How are you?"

There isn't an answer. The emptiness is unbearable, and Ash can hardly believe the room filled with so much passion a few moments ago. His mouth opens to reiterate the question, but realizes she _did _hear him and chose not to answer. All she does is continue fixing her hair to satisfaction and wraps her arm around her stomach.

As Ash moves closer, he swears he can feel her fall away, and he surrenders most of his blanket until it drops to his waist. His bare chest gently bumps her equally bare shoulder and he retracts to the accidental contact. It seems ironic now, considering the circumstances.

"Is something wrong?"

Another thin bang falls against her cheek, but this time he takes the initiative to brush it from her milky skin. Finally she moves; moves in a way he's accustomed as his finger traces her jawline all the way down her collarbone. Her eyes close to his touch, but he can't tell if it's because of disgust or pleasure, begging for more. He takes the former and stops, but it's impossible to ignore how dangerously close they are. He's close enough to see the marks he left in the slide of her neck and can smell their entangled scent lingering on their skin. It's a foreign aroma, a stranger to them both.

Misty shakes her head, undoing the hair he just put back into place.

"Then it's me." It's not a question but more of a realization.

"No." The blue in her eyes meet the brown in his. "It's not you either."

He doesn't get it, and she knows. It's so hard not to ask her the hundreds of questions bouncing in his mind, but he waits for her to continue. Eventually, she does, after another tedious pause Misty rests her head against his chest. It's comfortable, like it's meant to be there. Her skin is warm against his, it always feels that way. Why something can feel so right and so wrong at the same time, he can't understand.

"I just, don't know how to continue," she mumbles with eyes shut.

Again, he waits for explanation.

She sighs. "Just like that, we've gone from being friends to, well... _this_. What do we do now?"

Now its his turn to speak. But just like her, he can't give an answer, as if they're both asking unanswerable questions. All he can do is lean his cheek against her forehead as he rubs her back over his blanket. They stay there for a few minutes, half joined, fully blank, holding on to the unfamiliar.

"I don't know either," he finally says, disregarding the five minutes of silence. "I wish I did."

So does she. At least they can agree on something.

"Technically, I'm still dating David. You have someone too. I don't want to get you in trouble with the League. You're reputations on the line, Ash."

"Forget that," he says abruptly. "I don't care."

He doesn't regret what happened, not for a damn second. How she showed up at his door, alone, without explanation. How innocent talks morphed into something deeper. How years of dancing the friendship tightrope broke suddenly, and they couldn't stand it anymore. How it all happened at the worst time, when neither had the means or freedom to do it.

As morning arrives, she's forced to leave, hair just as messy as she left it. He watches her go, down the stairs with a promise to call, a million questions still unanswered and feelings still unresolved. He hopes she'll call, so he can make some sense out of the greatest night of his life. Still, he knows things should have been better under different circumstances -- the _right_ circumstances. In a time where she doesn't have to leave him before sunrise, where their relationship can finally have a label, and solving a problem is as easy as fixing her hair.

* * *

I'm done with the depressing stuff. It's all flowers from here on. I promise.


	22. Voice

**Voice**

It started with a voice.

"All aboard!"

The conductor scanned his pocket watch, the connecting chain still clipped to the inside of his coat. The minute hand was just a few ticks away from the top, signaling 11:00pm - their departure time. He surveyed the empty rail station: a few forgotten drinks and old newspapers were all that was left. He didn't know why he sounded the 'last call' alert, rarely did anyone ride the Golden Rod Magnet Train so late. He read his watch again; maybe it wouldn't hurt if he left a few minutes early. Taking one last sweep, he snapped his pocket watch shut and entered the sleek silver locomotive. As soon as he was inside, the automatic doors slid together, ensuring his passage though.

"Hold that train!!"

"Huh?" The conductor caught the doors before they fully collapsed and forced them back open. There before him was a young man, bent to his knees, trying to catch his breath. He wiped his face with his jacket sleeve and continued gasping for air.

The conductor scratched his neatly trimmed beard. "Cutting it a little close, aren't we?"

"Sorry... I'm late. But I... really need to... take this train."

"You got it. May I see your ticket, son?"

"Ticket!?" Immediately, his hands dove to his pants, shirt and jacket pockets. He ripped off his backpack and tore through it in a fury, growing more frantic as the search lingered. "I... I had my ticket," he stammered. "It was right here! I had it! I had it!"

"I'm afraid I can't let you board without a ticket, and it's almost time to depart."

"No!" he shot to his feet.

"Listen kid, the 805 bound for Kanto leaves bright and early tomorrow. Just go then."

"I can't! You don't understand! I need to be be there tonight!" he screamed, his league hat falling to the cement.

"Why are you in such a hurry, son?" He eyed his watch again, so much for leaving on time.

The young boy angled down and picked up his hat off the floor and firmly situated it on his wild black hair.

The conductor crossed his arms. "Well?"

* * *

Their patience thinned as time went on. It was an unnatural sight, a battle field with only one contender, like a puzzle without its final piece. The empty trainer's box stuck out like a sore thumb, making the entire stadium, packed to full capacity, restless and unforgiving. They paid for a battle, and wouldn't yield until they got it. The commotion grew, making one spectator particularly edgy.

Dawn swallowed nervously. "This doesn't look so good. Where is he?" She turned to Brock in the next seat. He didn't say a word, and judging how rigid his body was and how his hands were clawed to his jeans was a dead giveaway he didn't know the answer to her question any more than she did. Her head sunk lower and covered her mouth with her hand. Like everyone else, they were forced to wait, it was the only thing left to do.

_"It seems we have a problem, folks. The green trainer has not entered the arena yet. We're inquiring about his whereabouts, but if he doesn't report within the next fifteen minutes he will forfeit the match."_

"Brock," she said in a worried whine, just above the increasing murmurs of the crowd, who stirred in their seats and bellowed their impatience freely.

"I know, I know," he said, rising to his feet.

Dawn followed. "Where is he, Brock?"

"I don't know," he replied. "But I'm gonna find out."

* * *

Ash flexed his fingers. He pulled on them and cracked his knuckles individually. He sat on a cold metal bench in the middle of a large room, steel lockers lining the wall, with the sound of his knuckle's pops rushing back to his ears. He interlocked his fingers again. Maybe focusing on his hands would settle his nerves, or at the very least provide a much needed distraction. His eyes focused on his black fingerless gloves, moving jittery without much thought.

There was a small tug on his jeans, pulling him out of his trace. Before him was his Pokemon, the only one he let out and walk with him, side by side. It's not like he had a choice really, Pikachu hated being in Pokeballs with a passion. Right now Ash would do just about anything to hide in one of those white and red balls, away from the overwhelming obstacle now set before him. His small friend craned his neck with black beady eyes, offering his sincere comfort. He cooed gently, long ears folded back in a sign of empathy.

He smiled. "Thanks, buddy. That means a lot."

"Pika."

He bent down and picked him up by his sides, cradling his oldest friend against his chest. Pikachu released a satisfied 'Chaa' as his master scratched him behind the ears, just the way he liked it. "It's gonna be tough, Pikachu. Do you think we're up for it?"

"Pika Pika," he said in a confident tone, letting his closest friend know how he never doubted their chances.

"Yeah, you're right," he rose to his feet, with a renewed sense of strength and vigor. "All we need to do is try our hardest. Let's go!"

"Pi-Ka!" Pikachu shouted, loyally at his master's side. Together they stared into the bright light at the end of the long tunnel. There, just a few yards before them lay their next challenge. Ash and Pikachu had done it before, battled against impossible odds and intimidating foes. Nothing would stand in the way of victory and their title of League Champion. They had trained too hard and dedicated too much to be denied now. It was their honor. It was their right.

_Buzzzzzzzz_

Pikachu's ears shot up to the unfamiliar noise. Ash jumped a little too, his hand driving to the outside of his pocket where his PokeGear was. His eyes however, never strayed from the white light, somehow beckoning him to his goal.

_Buzzzzzz_zz

"Pika?"

"It's just my PokeGear. I'll just let it go to voice mail. We got a job to do."

_Buzzzzzzzz_

Pikachu looked worriedly at the gear shoved in the front pocket of Ash's pants, vibrating in two second intervals. His ears twitched and he tugged on his master's pants again, managing another concerned squeak_._

_Buzzzzzzzz__  
_

* * *

A soft knock on her door, and when there wasn't an answer he entered without permission. The door squealed lightly as it opened and he sat on her bed just a few inches from her, careful not be a disturbance. She didn't feel the added weight on the mattress as her head never lifted from her fore arms. She was curled up, probably had been there for a while, legs bent to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees, head wilted over her arms. There was a soft noise muffled under them but refused to move a muscle.

He lifted a hand in the air, but realized he didn't know where to put it. Finally, he settled for her upper back. The unexpected contact caused her to resurface from her prison, freeing those wonderful ocean eyes. They were worn from use, reddened cheeks stained with freshly fallen tears. She jumped slightly and wiped her cheek with her palm, careful not to smear her already ruined makeup.

"You're here," she whispered after a small sniff, a weak smile berating her face. "I can't believe you're here, Ash."

Her astonishment caused him to smile too, a much stronger smile under the confidence behind his eyes. He chuckled and rubbed her back again.

"Of course I am."

"I didn't think you'd come," she admitted after a lingering sob.

He elected to bypass her worry. "What happened? What's going on?"

Misty's surprise immediately was overtaken by her anger, like it always did, and her face disappeared back into her self-made fortress. "I don't want to talk about it!" she yelled, the power in her voice shielded by her arms.

"Well, that's just great. I traveled half the world just to be here with you."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, what are boyfriends for anyway?"

The casual mention of the 'b' word caused a stubborn twitch. She sighed and cradled her head with her right arm. "You're not my boyfriend, Ash. You're just someone I call three times a week and see two times a year."

"Well, traveling will do that," he laughed. "But I am trying to get back here as much as I can. I'm trying to be a better boyfriend, but, you know... it's hard. Are you sure you don't want to talk about whatever is bothering you?"

She shook her head, unreasonable as always.

"Well, you should know you're great... and I think you can handle it... whatever it is... and if you need my help... not that you would! Just if you did, I'm here. Well, not all the time... but sometimes. I mean, you can call me whenever. Of course, when I'm here you can just talk to me instead of calling. Don't call me when you could just talk to me face to face. 'Cause if you didn't, that would just be weird."

Misty smiled, a much brighter smile than before. "You're an idiot," she giggled. "Just kiss me already and be done with it. It's the only thing you're good at."

He readily obeyed and moved closer. Clearing the final watery trickle off her face, he gave her a quick peck on her lips, in a soft, warm, innocent way only he could get away with. She had stayed awake the whole night waiting to taste his lips again, and the kiss didn't even last a few seconds. But it was still worth it, it was enough because it came from him.

"Thank you, Ash."

* * *

It started with a voice.

_Hi, you've reached Ash's phone, future Pokemon Master. I'm busy right now so leave a message and I'll get back to you._

_Pika!_

_Oh yeah. Press '1' if you want to talk to my buddy, Pikachu. Bye_

**Beep**

Hi, Ash? It's Misty. Are you there? I, uh... something happened. I'm at home right now. I just, needed to hear your voice. I miss you. Bye.

**Beep**

**

* * *

**

A/N - I'm still in my LOST high, it's where the non-linear stuff comes from. The new seasons pretty spectacular. If you want to read the chapter in order its 3-5-2-1-4.

By the way, I just earned my fifth badge in Soul Silver. I know I'm too old to be playing those games but they are pretty darn addicting. Tah, for now.


	23. Wind

**Wind**

"Look at those!" she gasped with excitement, pointing a finger vertically in the air. Her hand teetered in the soft breeze before dropping back to the ground, the prickly blades of grass tickling her skin as it returned to her side. "Looks like the waves of the ocean. It's so beautiful." Her arms extended above her head, interlocking her fingers together and reached back as far as her body allowed. Releasing a moan-like yawn, she arced her lower back and fully stretched her legs. After a comfortable sigh, she shut her eyes and let the warm sunlight graze her eyelids.

He glanced at her curiously, obviously enjoying herself, just a few inches away. "It looks like a web." His eyes returned to the sky, hand shielding his face just so he could comment on the scene. "Kinda looks like a web from a bug, a Spinarak maybe." He hoped his observation would perk a response out of her, maybe an annoyed grumble or trademark slap upside the head. But there was none; he wasn't quite sure if she heard him too.

"Nice try," she whispered lightly, quelling his doubts. "But it only works with real bugs, not imaginary."

He looked again, tucking his hands behind his head and crossing his feet. The white threads weaved together, almost blanketing the entire sky, slithering like a unraveled ball of yarn caught in the lazy wind. Finally, he could understand her statement earlier, as he focused his eyes on the drifting cotton pattern. They did kind of look like waves, and as soon as he noticed the blatant blue background he wondered why it didn't come to his mind in the first place.

Usually, when she corrected him she would let him know. A merciless string of insults followed, jokingly of course, and ultimately ending in a small tiff they could just add to their ever growing list of arguments with no real purpose. But this time there were no well crafted comebacks or sarcastic remarks, for her eyes were still closed, allowing the sunshine envelope her body intermittently through the slivers in the clouds.

He let some time pass before he said another word, resetting the atmosphere. The rolling wind brought in a new set of formations to label. He scanned the open area, now populated with a fresh collection of shapes. These were different, much bigger than the last set, more isolated and bulky. The cumulus clouds bunched like small white explosions, resembling cauliflowers with the stalks removed.

"I knew you'd think of food," she giggled after hearing his stomach give away his conclusion. Oddly enough, her eyes were still closed, but this time with a smile coiling her mouth. "It looks like a bunch of bombs just went off in the sky."

"Hey, that's what I was thinking too. That's kinda weird." He lifted his head a bit and let his left hand return to his side, accidentally bumping into hers.

"It's all up for interpretation. But they say if two people see the same thing it means they're alike."

"Well, that's just crazy." He hoped her eyes were still closed, because he felt some heat rise to his cheeks, and he swallowed nervously after fabricating a weak cough to cover his tracks. She giggled, _again _without sight, and playfully knocked his shoulder with hers. He was quite annoyed really, how she was magically able to distinguish everything so effortlessly, without the use of normal senses. He sat up with his elbows just to see if she was pulling his leg, sneaking in a few peeks without him knowing.

"I haven't been looking so you can stop checking," she said, again with eyes shut.

"How do you know?"

"Because you're blocking my sun!" She shoved his face away, and giggled again as he fell backward, left to massage his tender nose.

He gave in, there was no use figuring this girl out. In the ten years he knew her she would always find ways to amaze him. Whether it be an unannounced visit at his house (of which were never too long or unwelcoming), or a facet of her personality revealed under the oddest circumstances, this being the case, she would always find a way to get the best of him. He chuckled to himself and allowed the wind to play with his hair, now waving across his face.

The newest set of clouds the wind ushered in were different than the first two. When he zipped up his jacket all the way to his chin and as she started to rub her arms, it was evident the climate had changed, temperature dropping a few degrees as proof. The puffy clouds now hung in the air, gathering more mass as the heavens began to darken. Direct sunlight vanished, it was the first time all day he didn't have to block the rays with his hand just to see the sky. The wind began to pick up, gusting loose brush over their heads. The underbelly of the clouds lost their pale white color and transformed into a gloomy gray, and she knew any second they would release their weight on the world below.

"We should go inside," she turned. "There's gonna be a storm."

He scoffed, not necessarily at her but more to the situation. "A few clouds, rain and wind never hurt anyone."

"But..." she didn't finish her sentence because she really didn't need to explain it to him. They both knew the consequences if they didn't head indoors right away. But her attempted worry didn't phase him, not one bit.

His hand crawled across the ground and landed on hers, fingers interlocking together. Neither looked down.

"Stay," he whispered, eyes pinned forward. "Stay with me, please. It'll be alright, we've gone through worse."

He was right, they _had _gone through worse and always managed to survive. And she stayed, just as he requested. They laid in their same places, like they had been for the last few hours, hands adjoined as their only difference. A light drizzle drenched their bodies, followed by a stiff wind just weak enough not to sweep anything heavy off the ground. But they were there, together through the maturing storm above their once sunny getaway.

But surprisingly enough, the weather subsided and they were fine, just like he promised. The clustering clouds dispersed, making way for much lighter fluffier ones. The sun reappeared, peaking it's head back to graze them with warmth once again. The rain ceased, leaving behind fresh dew drops collected on small leaves and the thin blades of grass, malleable and curved to the shape of their bodies.

The clouds returned as well, the good swirly kind worth making a guess on. And they continued staring into the bright blue forever, naming them as they were pulled across the sky, by the same wind that brought them contentment, joy, the storm, and eventually everything back around again.

* * *

I was heavy with the symbolism here. I don't know where this came from but, I hope you enjoyed the change of pace.


	24. Xylem

Don't look it up... not yet.

* * *

**Xylem**

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The light hurt his eyes, when he first opened them and they retreated to a thin wince. The ceiling fan was at its lowest setting, slow enough to count the five white blades, slightly angled in a hypnotizing circuit around the three light bulbs and hanging chains attached. Ash blinked twice to refocus his eyes but to no avail. A sharp pain shot to his forehead. His head hurt like hell, like it had been in a vice all day. He heard something else too, besides the heart monitor to the left and whirling fan above. It sounded like a drowned out song, a sweet melody without words.

There she was, in the chair beside his bed, just inside the realms of his vision still trying to return to normal. She sat Indian style, holding a book by the insides of her forearms, improvising a little tune to herself. The hum was distinguishable all to itself, outside the two second regularities of the heart monitor or the steady buzz of the fan. He didn't recognize the song though. Sure, it was made up, but usually he could tell where she sampled it from.

She noticed him awake before she turned a fresh page, headed tilted against the down pillow, the sheet hugging his chest almost constraining him to the bed.

"You're up, huh?" she leaned forward slightly. "We were getting worried. You've been asleep nearly twelve hours."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He didn't answer, he was still too tired despite the long rest. He managed to free his arm from the constricting covers. A thin white string of bandages wrapped diagonally around the majority of his head, stray hairs poking out of the cracks in the tape. The dressings felt uneven over the clumps in his hair and he dropped his arm back to the bed sheet, exhausting the last of his energy.

His mouth was unbearably dry, even licking his lips didn't help. "What happened?" he asked, the dryness apparent.

"You don't remember?"

"I'm still kinda out of it." He slurred the last word, rolling out like a crawling fog.

The hardbound book made a noise, louder than it should of as she shut it and placed it on the three pronged table. "You're slipping a bit, Ash. Team Rocket usually doesn't get the best of you. Even with their outrageous inventions they seem concoct every week."

"Thanks for the tip," he grumbled.

"Hey, you should be grateful to me, sitting her all this time, that machines driving be nuts!"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Next time I'll be more thoughtful." He shifted underneath his covers, wriggling for some room. It lost its cocoon like structure and freed his body. He sat up on his pillow, still holding his head. "Where is everyone?" he asked when he finally noticed they were the only ones in the room.

Her nose was buried back into her book, her orange hair the only thing completely visible. "Brock's with Pikachu and Togepi," she said nonchalantly. "They're getting some treatment. Nothing serious. They wanted to let you sleep."

"And you?"

Misty didn't answer. She licked her pointer finger and turned another page. Ash looked again, the cover of her book featured a large tree, its title partially blocked by her forearms over the outside. She was about three fourths done with it, the pages turned lopsidedly to the front cover. She was one of the more faster readers he'd known but she had obviously been there for a while.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Reading."

"'Bout what? Trees?"

"Kinda," she turned another page. "I'm in the chapter about vascular plants. Right now I'm reading about Xylem."

One of his eyebrows curved higher than the other as his brain searched for any type of association. There was none.

She stifled a giggle with her hand. "It's one half of its transport tissue. It mainly carries water from the roots to all other parts of the plant. It's pretty essential for survival, especially in the winter when water and minerals are scarce."

"I see." He rubbed the back of his head, not fully understanding. "So without it, it would die?"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She flipped another page. "Pretty much."

Ash ran his tongue over his lips, but they remained dry and chapped. He tried to swallow but there wasn't anything left to swallow, not even some lingering saliva. He pushed himself up the bed in a slightly obtuse angle. The light still stung his eyes so he shut them, and still felt the fan's gentle breeze on his skin. The continuous beep of the machine became annoying. It nether slowed nor quickened but retained the same stagnant pace. There wasn't anything to complain about really, if it slowed to a whine or raced to drum roll he'd really be in trouble. But, despite his pounding headache and blurry vision, the dehydration kept to the fore and began to take its toll.

"I'm kinda thirsty. Would you mind getting me some water?"

"Sure," she shrugged and dogeared her spot. Her legs uncrossed and headed toward the door.

"Misty?" he asked, just as she neared the entryway.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

She dismissed him with a quick wave of her hand. "No problem. Be right back."

"Misty?"

"Mmhm?"

"Some food too."

"Alright."

"And Misty?"

She sighed, head rolling over her shoulders. "What, Ash!?"

"I _really _appreciate it. _Everything_."

Then she did something, something she never did before. It wasn't the warm smile beaming across her face. It wasn't the way she walked to his bed, without a sarcastic jaunt or playful skip. It wasn't how her eyes suddenly resembled small turquoise pebbles, watery from the sudden heat rising behind her eyes. It wasn't how she softly placed a hand on his bruised head, still covered like a poorly wrapped gift. It wasn't her kid-like giggle, high pitched and abrupt, but still nice to hear.

It was her sincere exhale, like she was releasing a tension she had carried around with her forever. And how gentle her next words were, completely candid without alterations. "You know, I think that's the first time you said that to me."

He creased his forehead. "No it's not. It can't be."

"Even if it's not... it certainly has been a while. A long while."

"Well, I should start saying it more. A lot more."

Her grin remained. "I think that would be nice, really nice," and shot him a wink, just slow enough for him to catch.

BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep

* * *

I got the setting from a _Cowboy: Bebop_ episode. Extra points if you can name which one. I added a lot more dialogue, and of course the tree thing. I think Spike and Faye resemble Ash and Misty a lot.


	25. You

**You**

**[Ten years old]**

The bottom right hand square shut off, the picture minimizing to a small dot before ending its transmission. The flat panel display was part of a four square design, each featuring a different legendary Pokemon cut from stone. A giant mythological bird with long fiery pinions was the feature, and he still swore he saw it just a few hours ago, despite the Professor's discouraging comments. Ash's head lowered with dejection, eyes meeting with the shiny tile floor.

"Now I've got you!!"

"Huh?"

There she was - that skinny girl from the lakeside. Her stance was wider than usual, panting for air, holding something with one hand up above her head. It was horribly disfigured, its bright orange and red design reduced to a charcoal like gray. The once two perfect circles at each end were broken and warped, their original shape gone completely. The blackened monstrosity shook in her grip, any more pressure exerted on it and he was sure it would disintegrate right in her hand. The sharp stench of fused metal and burnt rubber filled the entire lobby and he cupped his hand over his nose from further intruding his senses. But the deadly pierce from her eyes proved more intimidating as she sucked up enough oxygen to scream her lungs out.

"I knew I'd find you here!"

"Hey, what happened to your bike?!" he pointed, finally recognizing it.

"What happened to my bike!?" she shouted angrily, stomping towards him. "_You _happened to my bike, you little loser! This is what's left after you stole it to save your Pokemon!! Now I can see why your Pokemon is in the-whoa, whaa, whaaaaaaaa!!"

CRASH!!!

Immediately, he was at her side. "Let me help you!"

She slapped his hand away. "I don't need you help! And you're gonna pay for what you did to my bike!!!"

"I'll make up for it. I promise I will, really," his eyes shifted away. "But I can't do anything about your bike until..."

She shot to her feet, balling her hand right below her chin. "I don't want any of your lame excuses, kid! I just want a new bike right now!!"

"It's my Pikachu," he whispered softly. "My Pikachu's not too good."

"Huh?" Suddenly, the anger in her voice vanished, and those same green eyes once filled with so much rage were softened with concern. He peered back to the unopened sliding doors leading to the critical care treatment room, the small light above still a steady neon red.

"Is it very serious?" she asked gently, hands falling to her side.

"I think so," his voice quivered. "And there's nothing I can do to help now."

"Oh..."

* * *

**[Twelve years old]**

He twirled seamlessly to the music, feet stepping and body swaying in sync with the hard driving rhythm of the beat.

"Alright, Starmie! Time to dance!"

His Pokemon obeyed the command, easily dodging Squirtle's water gun attacks.

He spun around again and flipped his auburn colored hair, letting it fall back against his forehead. "Misty, this is for you. A very special dance. Starmie, spin yourself into a Thunderbolt attack!"

Rudy's Starmie gained enough velocity until its purple crystal-like appendages blurred like a table top. As its speed increased, a narrow bolt of electricity surrounded its entire body and launched toward its unsuspecting opponent.

"But... how?"

"Dance, Starmie!" Rudy smiled. "A victory dance!"

"Squirtle! No!" Ash shouted.

High above them, in a fan propelled air balloon, the spectators of the Gym match looked on.

Tracey hooked his fingers over the side and gasped in disbelief. "I can't believe it! His Starmie can use electric attacks!"

"Alright!" Mari shouted. "My brother Rudy's gonna win the match!!"

"Squirtle's a water element and it's weak against electric attacks. This doesn't look good."

Misty had been quiet the entire match. Yes, she was concerned when Pikachu lost to Rudy's Electabuzz, and her spirits were lifted when Bulbasaur evened the score at one apiece. But she couldn't manage any more emotion than that. The only thing she was able to do was vaguely answer little Mari's question about her and Rudy's talk the night before. He asked her to stay with him. She was physically at the match but her mind was someplace else, somewhere far off and elusive, imagining all possibilities of accepting Rudy's request. How staying at Trovita would affect her life. And how much her life would change if she had to move on without...

"Ash! What are _you_ gonna do, just stand there and let him beat ya?!"

Mari frowned. "You want him to win?"

"Misty?" Ash looked from the battlefield to the red balloon, floating a few hundred feet away, above the thin rock cliffs formed from the island's naturally occurring whirlpools. Even though she was far away - and he could barely make her out as a tiny dot - her voice remained powerful and clear.

"Come on! You're the only one you can bring out Squirtle's real power!"

"I know that! I'm not stupid!"

"Then just don't stand there, do something! You already beat Rudy once you can beat him again!"

Rudy sighed, for he was already defeated. "She wants him."

* * *

**[Fifteen years old]**

Her fingers flexed around the bars, shaking them as hard as she could. The door moved a millimeter to the left, coughed a metallic chink but did not budge any further. She gave a heavy sigh and knocked her forehead against the bars, producing an equally heavy noise.

"So, anymore bright ideas?"

"Quiet!" she barked, refusing to relinquish her tension. It wasn't a good idea - she knew that already - but like always her stubbornness got the better of her. "We're only in this situation because of _you_!"

"Me?!" his finger immediately pointed to his nose.

"Yes! You!" Her hands peeled off the cell door and shot in the air, as if wanting to inflict some physical harm on him right then and there. The impulse quickly died however, as her arms flopped back to her side in surrender. "This always happens! We follow your stupid advice and we end up getting captured! The only time I visit you guys and this happens!"

"Hey, it couldn't have been that stupid. You followed it, didn't you?"

"Don't start with me, Ash!"

"Oh yeah?!"

"Yeah!"

In the corner of the cramped brig sat two observers. They remained quiet, exchanging a glance or two every so often. The first leaned to her left, shielding one hand over her mouth so her voice wouldn't carry. "Do they always fight like this?"

The older boy smirked slightly and folded his arms against his chest, with a subtle nod to confirm her inquiry.

"That's crazy. It's like they're a bunch of two year olds." Dawn readjusted her white cap and rose to her feet. "Come on guys, I'm sure there's plenty of blame to go around."

"We should have called the police like I wanted to!"

"There wasn't time! We needed to stop Team Galactic now!"

"We're doing a wonderful job of that, by the way!"

"It's not like I was planning on getting captured!"

"Then tell me, what are you planning next?! 'Cause I'm dying to know!"

With an exasperated sigh, Dawn walked back to the corner and slid to the floor. "Well, that didn't work."

Brock chuckled. "Why do you think I didn't get involved in the first place? After the first couple hundred you learn to let a few pass."

They let the bickering continue a few more rounds: A sarcastic comment, a belittling remark, an irritated groan - it was more like some bizarre verbal skill than an argument.

"Brock?"

"Yes?"

"I swear, if we ever get out of this cell, I'm partnering up with you."

He laughed. "You know, I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

* * *

**[Eighteen years old]**

Sent from ASH 11:01 - _did you see it?_

Sent from MISTY 11:02 - _of course I did, you idiot! what do you think I was watching the last two hours? how does it feel?_

Sent from ASH 11:03 - _awesome! we're celebrating right now! :D_**  
**

Sent from MISTY 11:05 - _wish I could be there_

Sent from ASH 11:07 - _then be here_

Sent from MISTY 11:10 - _are you joking?_

Sent from ASH 11:12 - _does it look like i'm joking?_

Sent from MISTY 11:13 - _this isn't a video phone, dork :p_

Sent from ASH 11:15 - _still. I want you here._

Sent from ASH 11:20 - _Misty?_

Sent from MISTY 11:20 - _don't move. i'm coming._

* * *

**[Twenty years old]**

He gently cupped her face before pressing his lips firmly against hers. She titled her head slightly while wrestling back for control, grabbing his jacket by the collar and tearing it off his body. It was his favorite jacket, but it flopped to the floor followed immediately by his shirt. She glided her hands over his arms to his stomach then up his chest.

The bed consumed her like a cloud, as she fell backwards, still engulfed in his hold. She moaned softly as his kisses moved down her neck and collarbone. Her top was cast aside too - he must have slipped it off without her knowing as he pressed further into her bosom, spurning another faint moan. His fingers slid up her thigh, guiding her closer until their bodies perfectly flushed together. She countered by lassoing her slender legs around his waist, grabbing the nape of his neck with one hand and snaking through his messy hair with the other.

Her mind flooded with so many sensations it blurred into nothing, nothing but raw emotion - and she let out a weak cry before he took her breath away entirely.

This time he ceased his work against her smooth milky skin and met with her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she gasped. Her hand touched his cheek, reassuring him one more time. "It's just, I've been waiting forever for this."

"Really?"

She could feel his warm breath against her lips, easing from his previous labored condition, and the strength in his form keeping her safe. And she smiled, smiled because he still didn't quite understand. But that didn't really matter, because his body felt so warm against hers, and for the first time he was kissing her back.

"Of course, Ash. It's always been you," and kissed him again.

* * *

**[Twenty one years old]**

Swearing. Shouting. Screaming.

"You're impossible!"

"You're the impossible one!"

"Oh, real mature, Ash!"

"Look who's talking!!"

"Listen," she stopped to take a much needed breath. "I'm tired of this! I'm tired of waiting around for you!"

"Well, don't do me any favors! There's the door!"

"Damn it! Don't you even care?!"

"Of course, I do! But you're making this too hard!"

"Me?!"

"Yes! You! I can't do this anymore!"

Her head lowered, catching a tear before it ran off her face. "I don't know how I ever could have loved you."

It was a whisper, she meant to say it that low, and she wasn't quite sure if he heard it. Maybe his ears were still ringing from all the shouting they did before. But any doubt was crushed when he murmured the same words back to her, in a more resentful, painfully confident way she didn't bother to rub off the new tears devastating her face. A few seconds later and he was gone, with the door quickly shut behind him.

Silence. Shaking. Sobbing.

* * *

**[Twenty four years old]**

The telephone poles - strung together by thick black cables - would easily have given him a headache as they passed every two seconds. But he was used to it by now, sitting in his seat for the last two and a half hours in the same cramped position staring out the window.

Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga went the engine of the train, always drowned in the background. At times he forgot it was there. The steel clickity-clack of the wheels against the rail kept him awake more than anything. His seat rattled at the bends and the inclines, keeping him from achieving any real rest. So he defaulted to the window, less clean when they departed, now subjected to a blinding case of glare. His count of the poles reached a number too high to keep track of and he gave up the small past time just as she walked by.

"Here." She handed him a thin styrofoam cup and sat in the seat opposite to his.

He looked into the half brown half gray liquid ripping in his hand. "What is it?"

"Earl Grey." She carefully sipped hers, both hands on the cup. "At least that's what the guy at the food cart said."

The steam from his cup heated his face, and he blew it away into nothing. "Tea?"

Another small sip. "Yup."

The train hit a small leg of turbulence just as the cup reached his lips, and the liquid got everywhere but his mouth. He scowled and dried his hands against his jeans.

Stifling a laugh, she handed him a paper towel. He thanked her silently and soaked it against his shirt.

_Next stop: Route 28 to Mount Silver_ - The announcement was garbled by static but still clear enough to hear. Both Ash and Misty looked to the ceiling, to the small speaker above their heads. Misty stared into her cup, now half empty. She had procrastinated the whole trip. That 'thing' she meant to bring up hours ago had crept up on her. The low rumbles of the train seemed to lesson and the engine sounded dull enough to carry on a conversation. If there was a time to bring up something meaningful, now would be the time to do it.

She cleared her throat. "Ash, do you ever miss me?"

"What?"

"Do you ever... miss me," she said again.

He laughed, not a humorous one, but one of surprise. "Misty, that was years ago."

"I know." She paused, hoping he would take the reigns. Leading this particular conversation was something she wasn't keen on doing. "Do you?"

He rubbed the back of his head with a few stammers to prelude his response. "I-I don't know. I guess sometimes... every so often, I miss you. Why are you bringing this up now?"

Automatically, she broke eye contact. "I find myself missing you more and more. I don't know, maybe it's because you're leaving."

"Not leaving. Training."

"It sure doesn't feel like it."

He leaned forward, the empty cup dropping from his hands and rolled away somewhere.

"You're right, it doesn't. The Four sent me on this assignment. I don't know when I'll be back."

The train curved around the bend of the mountain, revealing a low forest valley. A towering snow capped Mount Silver was at the end, and Misty's eyes followed the tiny railroad track all the way to where they were.

"No matter what happens in our lives, Ash... I'll always miss you."

"Yeah, I'm going to miss you too."

Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga

* * *

**[Twenty five years old]**

Pink! Pink! Pink! He flinched every time the gavel tapped against the wooden stand. The audience swept the room away with whispers and conversations too blended to make out. The Dragon Master had enough and rose from his seat, pounding the gavel again.

"Order! Order!"

The crowed hushed into a stunned silence. All eyes glued to the four masters sitting in their chairs.

"Master Ketchum, I must ask you to restrain yourself."

"How can you say that?! This time they've gone too far! You have to do something!"

"We are aware of the situation," Agatha butt in coldly. "Nothing has changed of that fact!"

"They have my mother," Ash said as boldly as he could. "We need to save her! We have to get her back!"

"We cannot make a decision solely on personal matters, you know that. I'm afraid more time is needed for us to make our decision." In one fluid motion, he tossed his cape over his shoulders and turned. "This hearing is adjourned."

As soon as the sound of Lance's gavel reached his ears the four masters were already gone. Another wave of crowd noise claimed the room and Ash couldn't take it anymore. He sprinted down the aisle, splitting the audience in two and pushed the doors open, letting them seesaw shut. The murmurs of the crowd leaked out with every swing, like a broken record on a phonograph.

The pressure in his chest tightened, and he groaned angrily, gnashing his teeth together. The jeers from the audience flooded the tile hallway only for a moment, quickly followed by a familiar voice.

"Ash."

He didn't bother to turn. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Ash. I really am."

"This isn't right," he growled.

"I know."

"I shouldn't have to jump through all these hoops just to do this!"

"I know!"

"Misty." His head lifted from its previously crestfallen position. "Why are you here?"

"I'm worried about you."

"What are you worried for?"

"I need to know that you won't take things into your own hands."

"What do you expect me to do?! Stay here and wait while the council decides when to act?!"

She didn't say a word. She knew him well enough to know when he had already made up his mind. She had seen it before, when he was ten - boldly trekking the arduous road from trainer to master. That same resolution ran through her body, when he kissed her so passionately all those years ago. And she could still remember how low his voice was, when he broke her heart a year later - ending something that never really began in the first place.

"Come with me."

"Come with you?"

He took a step closer. "Yes, I can't take Team Galactic by myself. I need you. I don't trust anyone else to do this with me but you."

"Ash, I..."

"Misty," his voice broke as he said her name, hand gently settling on her shoulder, as if the needed support relied on her touch alone. "I need to know if you're with me."

She didn't answer him, not initially. But her hand reassuringly rested on his - just like it did a hundred times before - through overwhelming gym battles and villains, in a much younger, simpler life. She drew closer, in a familiar way where he wouldn't have hesitated to take her in his arms, and he in hers.

"Ash," she whispered in a voice, reminding him of a time long ago, where she picked him over a smug Trovita Gym Leader far away in the Orange Archipelagos. And a memory of a beaten Pikachu lying unconscious on a hospital stretcher, with as much tender concern in her eyes as his, for a Pokemon she didn't even know yet.

"I have always been with _you_."

* * *

A/N - It's kinda suppose to be a Pokeshipping chronology. Some scenes were from the show, obviously some I made myself. In my head, this is how I imagine them ending up. They're the "once and future" couple, always with a glimmer of hope. In your review, feel free to let us know which scene was your favorite.

One more to go! I have something special planned for the last chapter.


	26. Zenith

Last chapter. It's been fun guys. Thank you so much for sticking with me.

**

* * *

Zenith**

He wasn't thinking about food, or his computer, not even his bed and some decent shut eye. At 12:30 in the morning, the last thing people expect someone to be occupied with is Pokemon. Yes, Pokemon - that kid anime that began all the way back in the late '90s, but it had been over a decade since the show's original start, with slogans of "Gotta Catch 'Em All" a distant memory. The show felt like it was on it's umpteenth season, but it was actually coming to an end. And tonight was the finale.

Kyle was an odd kid, at least that's what his friends and family would say. He would have to be to hold on to a hobby as lame as Pokemon. Lame wasn't the correct word to describe it, some would say 'childish and 'immature.' Pokemon was an interesting phenomenon - a person either hated or loved it, with only a few in the middle, but for Kyle, his love for Pokemon still ran strong. Sure, this surviving interest lost motivation at certain points in his life. Understandably, when he graduated high school and entered college. Certainly, when he found a girlfriend - and they dated for a wonderful yet brief time, and obviously when various circumstances forced more important things upon him. Still, through it all - Pokemon was always there. Because he still caught himself - time to time - doodling a Pokeball above his English notes, beamed whenever he saw a rerun, or laughed when he scanned through old YouTube clips.

But tonight - tonight it was reaching its highly anticipated climax. For some, they thought this day would never come, people thought Pokemon would continue forever and ever until the end of the world, where Ash would still look like an immature ten year old and the games would be on its hundredth generation. It certainly seemed plausible.

A few months back, the creators of the franchise decided to call it a quits, the papers didn't say anything specific as to why, people were just flabbergasted that is was actually happening. Ash Ketchum - after all these years - was finally going to achieve his dream to be the world's greatest Pokemon Master. Only a few questions remained: How were they going to end it? What was going to be the main plot? Who would make a guest appearance?

The subject matter, ironically, was kept under lock and key. Not even the gossip columns on the Internet could get a glimpse into the final episode. So the world of pubescent newcomers mixed with long time fans - now in their twenties and possibly thirties - were forced to wait. They all waited for this day, when everyone's questions to everything Pokemon were going to be resolved.

So Kyle waited until everyone was asleep before he decided to watch it. It was showing on Cartoon Network - bright and early Saturday morning. Unfortunately, he couldn't watch it live. Saturdays were usually reserved for volunteer work, followed by his secular job, which happened to be twenty miles away in another town. But now - at the end of the day - the eight hours of dealing with demanding clients and virus infected computers proved well worth the wait.

He flipped through the recorded play list on his DV-R. There it was: _'Pokemon: The Final Movie'_ - tucked in the middle of an old collection of _'LOST' _episodes and an unwatched rerun of _'The Big Bang Theory.'_ At first, he hesitated to push the 'start' button. Maybe the finale was too built up in his mind, watching it would set up a critical disappointment. Nevertheless, he pressed on, with every bit of anticipation he had with the older episodes.

It was amazing - to say the least! There were rumors the creators found decent writers to write the ending... and they did. These were writers who's imaginations were not limited to Brock's predicable swoon over the 'girl of the week', or Team Rocket's inevitable blast off into the sky. No, the finale had substance, character development and some actual emotion to it. There were times when he forgot this was the same anime he'd grown to love all those years ago. The director even coaxed the old voice actors back into their rightful role. Kyle had a hard time getting use to the new voices (like everyone else, he imagined). They did get better as time went on, but nobody could _ever _replace the quality of a Veronica Taylor, Rachel Lillis or Eric Stuart. It was absolute heaven hearing Ash's low, plugged up voice again, or Jessie's evil laugh every time Team Rocket hatched another diabolical scheme.

But there was something else keeping his drive to watch Pokemon alive. Yes, he liked the RPG games - collecting Gym Battles, taking down the local crime syndicates and becoming the champion. Yes, the mangas were a good read, although he never delved into the universe fully. Yes, the Trading Card Game was awesome - he even had some old decks collecting dust in his closet. Yes, the anime offered a feeling of nostalgia and a connection to his childhood. But all those facets combined did not amount to the main reason why he still enjoyed Pokemon.

It was the characters. Specifically, the relationship of a determined, bumbling trainer from Pallet Town and a stubborn, often violent Gym Leader from Cerulean City. _Pokeshipping _was the real reason why he was watching. He couldn't quite put a finger on why he liked the couple so much. Maybe because Pokeshipping felt reminiscent of his own dismal love life, never really getting of the ground. Possibly because Ash Ketchum distinctively reminded him of himself, with all the romantic ignorance and genuine kindness to go with it. Or maybe it was the fact they were just so damn cute together! The bickering, the teasing, the loving banter - it was all so enjoyable.

It wasn't like the couple didn't have any legitimate hints to begin with either. Pokeshipping's evidence ranged from the subtle, to flat the out blatant. There were the cute scenes from the Indigo League: When Jigglypuff first put the group to sleep, when Misty thought Ash died in the Lavender Tower, or how their competitive spirit always seemed to get in the way of being nice to each another. Then there were the obvious hints - 'Pokeball Peril,' 'Misty Meets Her Match,' 'The Heart Break of Brock,' 'Gotta Catch Ya Later,' even the whole second movie for crying out loud!

But Pokeshipping seemed to ground to a halt when Misty left the show, and only appeared in a handful of episodes afterward. But missing roles didn't deter him one bit, not when May replaced her, not even when Dawn came and Misty didn't have a proper cameo throughout the entire Diamond and Pearl series. He still had hope, and that hope typified itself in this series finale... where once and for all the results of everything 'shipping' would be answered.

The finale did not disappoint. In fact, it was better! Not only was Misty there, but she was a main character again with a significant role. She was at her rightful place, at the side of Ash Ketchum ready to take on the villain with him. But it was more than that. It was the subtle hints, when Ash looked at her with the romantic interest we all knew he had in there somewhere, or how they kept on getting paired together every time there was a battle or chase scene. And the whole movie ended with an unbelievable climax, where Ash realized his dream of becoming a Pokemon Master was not enough. It finally dawned on him that he needed more than just family, friends, Pokemon and a lot of shiny badges. He needed _someone _to share his life with - and he found it with Misty. In a beautiful moment were the couple stood together in the glow of an orange sunset, Ash attempted to explain to her how much she meant to him. His confession was awkward, embarrassing, with tons of stammering... but he did it! That lunkhead finally did it!

The feeling was almost indescribable. It was like being surrounded by joy - as if 'joy' were something tangible - like being wrapped in a blanket or taking a nap in hot laundry, fresh from the dryer. All the years of hoping, believing and yearning was finally replaced with reality and irrefutable evidence. As soon as the movie ended he vaulted from his seat and sprinted to his computer, he knew he was too late for the party, but he wanted to at least catch it in its wake.

He had a lot of work to do on the forums and fan sites, but he didn't log on to gloat. No, he was beyond bragging to the Advanceshippers, Pearlshippers, Orangeshippers and the like. He hoped they knew Pokeshippers in general didn't hate them, or their attached character, it was just poor planning on the producers part and the enthusiasm of the younger fans. Take May for example, who certainly got a lot of heat for replacing Misty. But, after the initial knee-jerk reaction, most Pokeshippers realized they never hated May. Seeing the Advanced Generation fans pair Ash and May up willy-nilly was like breaking up with your significant-other and the next day seeing them with another person. Of course there was going to be tension, but it was _never_ personal. May was sweet. Dawn was cute. Tracey was a good guy.

All he wanted to do was write.

That's exactly what he did. He wrote for hours into the night, sharing his joy with others like him all around the world. Finally, their favorite girl and boy were together. Finally!

The excitement eventually waned, but the feeling was still there. It was a feeling of relief. Relief because he didn't have to check the sites all the time - hoping for a glimmer of a Misty cameo. Relief because he didn't have to continue those old fanfics anymore - the plot bunnies were gone. He didn't have the need to work tirelessly on his projects anymore, because what they represented were already fulfilled. Pokeshipping had the best fanfiction writers in the fandom, you couldn't just pick one. There were the old school fics, untouched but still legendary. Who could forget _Trish's_ rendition of "Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better," or the masterpiece that is _Legacy's _"Codename: ASHURA"? All the way to the 'active' generation, who bravely held the candle light for years at a time. From the string of Alphabet Challenges by _Erina-chan_, _Cristipotter _and _Milotic _to the delightful one shots of _eggplantdance, __Alyss Ashworth _and_ Bittersweet Romanticide_. But now, Pokeshipping didn't have to be some epic love story invented by the minds of its fans - it was real. It was everything they hoped it to be.

Eventually, Kyle went to sleep, just before the sun ushered in the daylight. It was the best sleep in recent memory because something that had been a part of him for so long was finally gone. He would always consider himself a fan of the series, a full time Pokeshipper and author, but now he could finally move on. It was the embodiment of happiness, the zenith of hope and dreams, and now he didn't need them anymore.

Because every time he wanted to experience the joy that first swept him away, all he had to do was watch it on TV, buy it on DVD or reminisce with old comrades in arms. But for now, he was sleeping - engulfed in his pillow that never quite felt so soft, and a blanket that never quite kept him this warm before. And he just knew, that his friends, Pokeshippers like him, in the most distant reaches of the globe were feeling exactly the same way.

* * *

All done! I'm already working on my next project. It's something I've never tried before, so you know it's gonna be all sorts of fun. Till then...


End file.
